


99 Percent Sure

by PumpkinDoodles



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: An Absurd Number of Invented Rumlows, Australian Jack Rollins, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Every Other Character Shipping Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow, F/M, Jane Foster Loves Science, Mentions of Cannoli
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-06-14 05:04:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 88,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15381261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster are Platonic Soulmates in Life & Science!, but that doesn't mean Jane isn't sad about her breakup with Thor. So when Jane and Darcy get new security from Phil Coulson--two ex-SHIELDRA double agents--Darcy decides to encourage the flirtation between Jane and Jack Rollins. She ropes in Jack's partner, the snarky Italian one, by promising him tiramisu, but she's worried he's gonna screw this up. He's only 99% sure it's a good idea.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing!

“Hold the elevator!” Darcy Lewis yelled, stomping across the lobby of Stark Tower in her combat boots. When the doors opened again, a familiar face smiled at her. “Agent iPod Thief,” she said cheerfully, “how’s life after death?”

“I find it delightful,” Phil Coulson said to her. There were two black-clad men behind him: a dark-haired guy who grinned and eyed her up and down with evident appreciation and curiosity and a second, taller man who looked downright feral. The tall one had a prominent scar on his chin.

“Who are your terrifying friends, Phil?” Darcy asked.

“She calls you Phil?” the curious one asked, raising an eyebrow. “Just how cozy was Puente Antiguo, boss?”

“I think you’ll find Miss Lewis is a very informal person,” Phil said, a tad formally.

“Damn straight, jack-booted thug numero uno,” Darcy told him. The smirking thug in question laughed.

“Agents Brock Rumlow and Jack Rollins,” Phil said, gesturing first to Agent Lustfully Curious and secondly to Agent Mutely Homicidal. “Miss Darcy Lewis, Scientist Wrangler and recent arrestee.”

“The charges were dropped, thank you very much. That’s how I’m back from California. The town of Sacramento decided not to press charges against me, Ant Man, The Wasp, some Wombats and about 400 other protestors trying to peacefully assemble and protect the municipal water supply from bee-killing contaminants,” Darcy said.

“How lucky,” Phil said.

“That made sense to you?” Agent Lustfully Curious, aka Rumlow, asked Phil wryly. “Wombats?” he said to Darcy. The other agent merely looked slightly more like he could eat Darcy’s liver with a nice Chianti.

“They’re people, not animals, Agent Rumlow,” she said.

“That so?” he asked. She nodded happily. Darcy loved the Wombats, especially Kurt. She and Kurt had a shared Elvis thing and led a group singalong of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” on the shuttle bus to jail.

“Oh, I made a lot of noise in the cells,” Darcy told Phil. “Have Skye look up the footage, you’re gonna love it.” Undead Phil was currently running an off-the-books SHIELD op with some cool newbies Darcy liked a lot. These two in the elevator were definitely oldies from DC. Fury hires, if she had to hazard a guess, just from the stern factor. Nick Fury loved a good glower. Also not dead, Fury was off in Europe hunting down HYDRA cells. “So,” Darcy said, “you two survived the DC thing a few years ago?”

“That’s classified,” Agent Mutely Homicidal finally said, in a low growl.

“He speaks! Alert the media!” Darcy said. The elevator dinged. “Whoops, here’s my lab floor. Always awesome to see you, iPod Thief,” she said, hugging Phil. “Good luck with whatever favor you need from Tony, jackbooted thugs!” She gave them a little wave as the doors shut.

“How’d she know we need a favor from Stark?” Brock asked Phil.

“She has ways,” Phil said mysteriously.

“I don’t like it,” Jack grumbled.

“Since when can you talk to pretty girls?” Brock asked his partner. Jack refused to answer, giving Brock a blank look that Darcy would have called a level ten on the creep-o-meter. Brock knew it meant Jack was merely being stubborn. Or shy. Not many people knew Jack was oddly shy for a man who regularly threw himself out of planes and had been in deep cover as a SHIELDRA spy, deep enough to ‘fail’ at apprehension of Captain America. Twice.

“Pretty sure that’s classified, too, Rumlow,” Phil said, too-casually. He hummed to himself as the elevator ascended to Tony’s penthouse. Brock thought he sounded smug.

“I remember Dr. Foster from New Mexico,” Jack said finally in a flat, expressionless voice, as the doors opened at the penthouse level.

“She and Thor broke up, you know,” Phil said in the same casual voice. “I hear she was tired of him being incommunicado on Asgard all the time. He’s there now.”

 

***

“Janey, l’m baaaaack,” Darcy announced as she strolled into their shiny Stark lab.

“Oh thank God,” Jane said, hugging her. “I missed you.”

“Yeah, she was very concerned that your wrongful conviction might mean the end of her self-refilling coffee and Pop-Tart supply,” Bruce Banner said dryly. He was scrutinizing a monitor in his glasses, looking very hot and disheveled, Darcy thought.

“Bruce! Sarcasm, I’m so proud of you,” she said, detaching herself from Jane’s python-like hug grip (Darcy was confident of her Platonic Soulmate’s affection, really) to go pinch Banner’s cheeks like a granny.

“It’s good to have you back,” he said, more sincerely.

“Yes, I was in jail so long, I don’t know how I’ll live on the outside,” she joked. Bruce frowned.

“You were just there for 24 hours, right?” Bruce said quizzically.

“She’s quoting her weird relative, who wrote that in a letter once,” Jane told Bruce.

“Yup, she was only in jail for four weeks for unpaid speeding tickets and contempt of court, but Aunt Debbie is a drama queen,” Darcy said. “She threw her shoe at a judge? She’s sort of the Zsa Zsa Gabor of our family.”

“Oh,” Bruce said, utterly befuddled.

“Just be glad you aren’t a Lewis, Bruce. Unless you want to make an honest woman out of me?” Darcy teased. He blushed. For awhile, they had pretended to be a couple to avoid Natasha Romanoff’s attempted set-ups with everyone, but their cunning plan had failed when Tasha realized they were faking. Poor, sweet Bruce had insisted he couldn’t convincingly fake-kiss her, it made him feel guilty. Darcy had found that rather charming.

“About that,” Bruce said glumly. “She’s setting us up again.”

“Noooooooooooooo,” Darcy groaned.

“I have a blind date with Karen from Stark legal tonight,” Bruce said, sighing.

“You’re gonna beg to be arrested again, aren’t you?” Jane asked Darcy, picking up her mug, realizing it was empty mid-swig, and frowning. Darcy pried the mug from Jane’s grasp.

“I’ll make you some coffee, okay?” Darcy told Jane.

“I love you so much,” Jane said sweetly. “I don’t know how I’d live without you.”

“Not long,” Darcy said. “Also, I saw you on Clint’s instagram yesterday wearing that same shirt. Time for clean clothes, Jane.”

Jane sniffed her shirt. “Oh,” she said apologetically. “I totally forgot.” Bruce laughed.

“She was busy with an experiment,” Bruce told Darcy.

“Uh-huh,” she said, nodding at them. “Now, just give me a Tasha Blind Date alarm, Jarvis?” Darcy said, heading into the breakroom.

“Very well, Miss Lewis,” the AI said politely.

 

***

Up in the penthouse, Tony Stark was greeting Phil. “Agent! How’s the undead life?” he asked.

“I’m not a vampire, Tony,” Phil said.

“But do you have a reflection?” Tony asked. Brock Rumlow repressed a snort. Tony looked at him. “Rambo and the Silent One here are supposed to be dead, too, I take it?”

“Agent Rumlow and Agent Rollins have been doing deep cover work within HYDRA for years,” Phil said. “They were listed as dead after DC, yes, but they’ve been running secret anti-HYDRA operations overseas for me. Now they need somewhere else to be for awhile.”

“How’d you fake die, huh?” Tony said, poking the taller Jack in the chest. “You definitely look like you don’t have a reflection, pal.” Jack glared down at him.

“Jack doesn’t talk much,” Brock explained. “They told people a building fell on me and I think Romanoff was supposed to have shot him, but we both got out unharmed by helicopter with Fury.”

“Can he talk?” Tony asked quizzically.

“Bloody hell, I can talk, it’s just not wise!” Jack said, finally exploding.

“Why does he sound like a bad Outback steakhouse ad, Rambo?” Tony said. Brock sighed.

“One of Fury’s little jokes. Jack’s originally from Australia, but Fury made his HYDRA cover American, so he’s had to learn to talk without the accent,” Brock said.

“Infrequently, as it turns out,” Phil said. “Now he sounds a little...unique.”

“He gets upset, the accent comes back,” Brock said by way of explanation.

“It wasn’t a joke, it was a bloody test,” Jack grumbled. “Bastard Fury. My accent’s not that strong,” he insisted.

“Uh-huh. Well, you can talk however you want here, Outback. Stark Industries does not give a damn. It’s one of the convenient things about being rich. Where do you want me to put them?” Tony asked Phil, rocking back on his heels. “Security guards?”

“Hold on,” Brock said, “I’m a SHIELD agent, not a rent a cop.”

“Oooh, integrity,” Tony said. “How quaint.”

Phil kept his expression neutral. “I heard that Jane and Darcy ran into a spot of trouble in Germany recently,” he said.

“Oh, yeah, Jane’s last trip. She and Thor aren’t talking and their last SHIELD detail before the uprising turned out to be HYDRA. Grant somebody? Warren?” Tony said to Rumlow and Rollins.

“Grant Ward. Real asshole,” Brock said. “We’re familiar.”

“Itty Bitty tased him,” Tony said. “So, Jane’s been refusing security since then. Some weird monocle guy tried to have her kidnapped at that Berlin conference, but Darcy tased his guy, too.”

“I heard it was a pretty near thing,” Phil said. Darcy stayed in touch with the Bus crew.

“It was,” Tony said, turning serious. “They won’t let me make them anything more powerful than tasers and sedation guns. I wanted a suit or an AI bodyguard, but Darcy says they creep Jane out and Darcy refuses to have contact with any AI more humanoid than R2D2 or BB-8. From _Star Wars_? She only likes cute ones.”

“I know _Star Wars_ , Tony,” Phil said. “My point is that Rollins and Rumlow could be Jane and Darcy’s new detail. Completely HYDRA-free, well-trained, and in need of jobs.”

“Oh, Jane is going to love this,” Tony said, rubbing his hands together. “You’re hired, Outback, Rambo.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick, hide!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!

Darcy was making coffee in the breakroom and wiggling along to Postmodern Jukebox’s cover of “Maps” on her phone earbuds when Jarvis alerted her to the imminent arrival of one Black Widow. “You have approximately 70 seconds before former Agent Romanoff locates you, Miss Lewis,” the AI said.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she said. “She’s already here?” Darcy did the only thing she could think of under the circumstances: she climbed into the cabinet under the sink. “Tell me when it’s safe to come out, J-Man!” she whispered, carefully shutting herself inside. She hoped the sound of coffee brewing above her didn’t make her have to pee anytime soon.

 

In the lab, Jane looked at the clock. “How long has Darcy been gone?” she asked Bruce.

“About fifteen minutes,” Bruce said. “Jarvis, where’s Darcy?”

“I’m afraid Miss Lewis is hiding from former Agent Romanoff at present, but she will return shortly. I am not at liberty to disclose her whereabouts,” the AI said. Bruce laughed.

A few seconds later, Tony, Phil, and two strangers entered the lab. Jane looked up in alarm. Tony knew she didn’t like interruptions from strangers. It threw off her Science! Mojo. “Janey,” Tony said, “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“Oh, no, nuh-uh. No surprises. No explosions and no surprises, that was the deal when I left Norway and took this job,” Jane told him.

“This is a good surprise,” Tony insisted. Jane backed up.

“Is something going to explode or try to take over the world?” Bruce asked casually. They’d talked Tony out of a robot army once or twice already. Sentient tech tended to betray him and then he got sad, Darcy often said.

“No, no, Phil’s just brought you some new security guys. Totally not HYDRA, right, guys?” Tony said.

“Yeah,” Rumlow said, reaching out to shake Jane’s hand. “Brock Rumlow. We’re not HYDRA. They’re sort of trying to kill us now.”

“Great,” Jane said sarcastically. “Even my security needs security.” Beside her, Bruce grinned.

“We’re professionals,” Rumlow said. “I’m 99% sure they won’t succeed.”

“In killing you?” Bruce asked. Rumlow nodded, as if this was a totally normal discussion topic.

“It’s nice to see you again, Doctor,” Jack said politely in his natural accent. “We met in New Mexico.” He gave Jane a fraction of a smile, which Jane found slightly alarming. Even Tony flinched.

“Oh my God,” Tony stage-whispered to Phil, “he’s even scarier when he smiles.”

“You should see him with a shaved head and a beard,” Phil said back. “He gets a weird vibe and Rumlow calls him Mr. Thylacine.”

“Thylacine?” Tony said. “Chemical element?”

“Now-extinct Australian marsupial, sometimes called the Tasmanian Tiger,” Phil said. “Wild-looking eyes.”

“Where’s Itty Bitty?” Tony asked.

“Hiding from Natasha in our breakroom. She’s trying to set us up with people again, now that she knows we’re both single,” Bruce said to Tony.  
“Oh, man,” Tony said. “Don’t tell her about me and Pep?” Pepper and Tony were on a break.

“Of course not,” Bruce said and shook his head. He wasn’t a snitch.

“We should probably tell Darcy,” Jane said to the group.

“I’ll go find Lewis, where’s this breakroom?” Rumlow asked.

“Around the corner, to your left,” Bruce supplied helpfully. “Has stickers on the door.”

“She put stickers on my door again?” Tony whined. “It destroys the aesthetics of the glass doors.”

“I ran into it again,” Jane admitted. “They’re safety stickers. I hadn’t slept.”

“Thanks,” Rumlow said.

***

 

He found the breakroom easily. There were Scooby Doo stickers at eye level marching across the glass, as well as several Avengers-themed cartoons taped up.  He walked in and looked around. Three travel mugs were lined up on the countertop of the small kitchenette; evidently the green Hulk one was Banner’s, there was a space-themed print, probably for Foster, and a final one that had to be Darcy’s. He half-grinned to himself. It was a mug with a reproduction of a pulp novel cover with “Built for Trouble” as the title. His eyes stopped at the table and his smile fell. Darcy’s messenger bag--made of recycled coffee bags, he noted--was sitting in a chair at the small cafe table. But there was no sign of Lewis herself. No woman left her bag unless it was an emergency, Rumlow thought. He touched the full coffee pot. Still hot. Freshly made. He didn’t like this at all. He drew his gun. “Lewis?” he called out. “You here?” He checked the small pantry on the opposite wall, next to a fridge. Nothing but snacks. Junk food, actually: M&Ms, Pirate’s Booty, different types of popcorn, and an astounding number of Pop-Tarts boxes. Just then, he noticed the largest cabinet across the room was a fraction of an inch ajar.

Darcy had heard someone coming into the breakroom and frozen under the cabinet. She heard an unfamiliar male voice calling her name and swore inwardly. Had Natasha actually heard she was back and _sent a man to her directly_? Jeez, she thought. He’d go away eventually, she just had to be quiet. It was probably that skinny guy from accounting anyway. What was his name? George? Geoff? Gary? G-something? Was it actually Gary Geoff? Or Geoff Gary? Natasha was always trying to set her up with him. It was why she and Bruce had combined their efforts. His Gary was a woman named Tracy in the SI art department. Darcy was lost in thought about Garys and Tracys and what she and Bruce would do now to escape Natasha’s machinations when the cabinet door she was leaning against opened unexpectedly.

Darcy fell out and landed on the carpet with a thud. Her legs were still half-stuck in the cabinet when she looked up. The curious SHIELD guy from the elevator was holding a gun and looking at her quizzically. “You were hiding in the cabinet under the sink?” he asked, holstering his weapon.

“You’re not Gary Geoff,” Darcy said, utterly baffled. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m your new security,” he said, grinning. His eyes raked her with amusement. “I thought you’d been abducted by aliens. Can I help you up or would you like to go back in the cabinet?”

Darcy peered between his ankles, looking at the door. “Depends,” she said. “Jarvis, where’s Natasha?”

“Former Agent Romanoff is on floor 21 at present, Miss Lewis,” the AI said politely.

“Oh, good. I can get up and make coffee now,” Darcy said. She was trying to crawl out of the cabinet when Security Guy plucked her up off the floor like she weighed nothing and set her back on her feet again.

“Can you walk okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said and immediately stumbled. He caught her. One of her feet had gone to sleep. His steadying arm around her torso was dangerously firm, Darcy thought. Dude was fit.

“Sit down,” he said, steering her to a chair. “I’ll make the coffee, Lewis. I’m not sure you’re hot beverage certified.”

When she told him how many creams she took in her coffee, Darcy was treated to a mini-lecture on cholesterol and cardiovascular health. _Great_ , she thought to herself, _my security is a health nut._ He was talking about almond milk, a topic that made Darcy want to gag. She’d tried vanilla-flavored almond milk in her coffee once--Bruce liked it--and discovered it tasted like chalk dust in liquid form.

***

 

Back in the labs, Phil, Bruce, and Tony had gone off to play with some Chitauri tech that Stark was replicating for surveillance purposes. Jack Rollins was taking the opportunity to ask Jane intelligent questions about her work. He was hoping to impress her. He didn’t want her to think he was just the muscle and had no brains. Unfortunately, Jane was still suspicious after the Grant Ward thing, the London thing, the New York thing, and the New Mexico thing. There were lots of things. “Why do you want to know?” she asked him sharply.

“Um, just trying to show an interest?” he offered. He looked down at his feet and blushed a little. Jane would have missed the blush, had she not been staring daggers at him. It dawned on her--Jane had been a shy child herself--that the super-intimidating ex-SHIELDRA guy might actually be shy.

“Do you like science?” she asked him.

“Yeah, I did a marine sciences degree. I’m from Australia; I went to USyd,” he said quietly. Jane knew the University of Sydney was a very good school. He had to have been a good student, pre-SHIELD. He went up some in her estimation.

“Did you get to do anything at One Tree Island?” she asked. “I have a friend from undergrad who went there for an internship and loved it.”

“I wasn’t so lucky,” he said politely. “Those spots are competitive. I worked on a project in the Northern Territories, mapping the landscape to monitor for pollution and erosion. We used drones and kite cameras.”

“Kite cameras?” she said. He shrugged.

“Attach a camera to a kite, you can get a closer, more detailed image than with satellite. It’s cheap and low-tech. I went into the service after university and somehow, those two sets of experiences got me recruited into SHIELD,” he said. “I think some of the project images might still be online? I can show you?”

They ended up looking at images of Australia’s northern coastline, talking about research methods, funding, and the hardships facing Maningrida’s indigenous population. Jack had strong feelings about the exploitation of Aborigines and could talk about that easily.

 

***

When Darcy and Brock returned to the lab, carrying multiple coffees, they found the two of them talking animatedly. They stopped in the hallway and stared through the glass partition.

“What’s happening?” Darcy said to Brock. “I thought he didn’t talk?”

“He usually doesn’t,” Brock said. “Oh, I get it,” he whispered.

“What?” Darcy said.

“Phil was mentioning she and Thor broke up, this must be why,” Brock said.

“Oh em gee, he thinks Janey’s cute?” Darcy said.

“I’m gonna give him so much shit about this,” Brock said, delighted. “He hates it when I’ve got something on him.” He laughed.

“Don’t ruin it, I think it’s sweet,” she said, looking at them and smiling. “She’s so tiny and he’s a half-tree. Besides, she’s been really bummed about the Thor thing. I want my Platonic Soulmate in Life & Science! to be happy, goober.”

“Goober?” he asked.

“It’s a southern expression, it means either peanut or dumbass, depending on context,” Darcy told him. “I learned it in Virginia.”

“Uh-huh,” he said. “Sure, cabinet girl.”

“He’s very muscle-y,” Darcy observed, studying Jack’s back. “Nice shoulders. Does he have that sexy hip muscle that really cut guys have?” she asked Brock.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” he said, snorting. “I ain’t looking at him in the gym.”

“Jane attracts all the really hot guys. I think it’s that ballerina thing she’s got,” Darcy mused. “She’s, like delicately beautiful, you know? Under all the flannel and once you get the pen ink off her face. One time, we went to a Tony party and half the male dancers from the ballet tried to pick her up.”

“Male ballet dancers?” Brock asked.

“Don’t laugh, they had incredible bodies,” Darcy said, sighing. Brock looked at her oddly. “I think we should give them a nudge,” she suggested, when Jane laughed at something Jack said.

“I don’t think this is such a good idea. We’re here to work,” Brock said.

“What if I bribe you?” Darcy offered.

“With what?” he asked skeptically. She eyed him.

“Tiramisu?” she said.

“Fine,” he said. “But I have high tiramisu standards. I’m Italian.”

“Duh, goober, like I can’t spot that?” she said.

“Most people get confused by the Rumlow,” he said.

“Italian mom or name change?” she asked.

“Both. Rumlow used to be Romanello, mom was a Di Maria.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's messenger bag is a real thing I want and/or would make, if I was at all crafty: https://pin.it/n6w57nqu23qjso


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PSL Tiramisu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for the kudos and comments!

The next evening, Brock and Jack were demolishing a pizza in their new Stark apartment. “This is the fanciest damn place I’ve ever lived,” Brock complained. “I can’t figure out how the ice maker works.”

“You talk to it,” Jack said. “Jane told me that everything has a vocal interface, including the appliances? Besides, you’re drinking beer.” He bit into another slice.

“It’s the principle of the thing. Give me ice, you sonofabitch,” Brock muttered at the fridge and several cubes clattered to the floor. He hadn’t thought it would work, so he wasn’t holding a glass. “Damn it,” he said.

“Not adjusting well, mate?” Jack asked.

“Nope,” Brock said, grumbling slightly as he picked up the ice cubes. He wanted to be in the field. He was a field work guy. Jumping out of planes, being undercover, staying busy, those were his things. Not babysitting scientists in a lab. This work was too safe for him. He tossed his third empty beer bottle in the recycle bin. He didn't mind having Jack as a roommate, but he hated the hotel suite feeling of the new place. It was too clean.

“I’m liking it so far,” Jack said quietly. He and Jane had spent most of the afternoon chatting about her latest project as she worked. Jack was relieved that he didn’t need to pretend 24/7 anymore. It was nice to just talk and not be wracked with anxiety.

“Yeah, I noticed you and Foster getting along,” Brock said wryly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jack said.

“You know what it means,” Brock said. “I’m going to go meet a woman.” He stood up and headed for the door.

“I hope you come back in a better mood,” Jack said. Brock made an indistinct disgruntled noise and shut the door behind him.

  
***

When he got in the elevator, he looked up at the ceiling. “What floor is Lewis on?” he asked the AI.

“You will find that Miss Lewis resides in one of the one-bedroom units on the 27th floor, Mr. Rumlow,” the AI said politely.

“Oh, will I?” Brock muttered. He didn’t know why he was even going. This was a stupid plan.

“Hey,” Darcy said when she opened the door, “you found the apartment. Yay for your second day of Stark Tower navigation, my dude. C’mon in.”

“This is a stupid plan,” he said without preamble, marching into her apartment. He looked around. She decorated in a mishmash of colors and strange objects. He spotted a framed photo of Elvis, twinkle lights, and a refurbished set of lockers being used as bookshelves. He eyed the Minion pillow on her couch. Wasn’t that a kid’s movie? Clearly, an insane person, Brock thought.

The insane person in question smiled at him. “Are you stoked? I’m stoked,” she said. She had a bit of espresso powder or something on her nose. “Come see the tiramisu,” she said, waving him towards the kitchen that was open to the living room. “Ta-da!”

“Pumpkin?” he said, perplexed. The tiramisu appeared to have a layer of something orange in the middle of it and spices on top.

“Yup,” she said. “I made pumpkin spice latte tiramisu, just for a change. I figured if you had specific ideas about traditional tiramisu, that something different would be cool? PSL tiramisu,” she said in a cheery voice.

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s new and different.”

“So, what do you think of Jane and Jack?” she asked, sitting down a cup of coffee in front of him and cutting him a slice of tiramisu. They’d decided on a twenty-four observation period.

“He’s into her,” Brock said, playing with the tiramisu. “I don’t see why they need us?”

“Agree on the first one, disagree on the second,” Darcy said. “They’re both shy people and she’s gonna hesitate if he’s not really clear about his interest. Guys didn’t hit on her much during the Thor period, because of, you know, terror of Asgardians with big hammers.” Brock snorted.

“Yeah, I’ve heard about his hammer,” he said.

“Also, Jane tends to Science! to the point of obliviousness. She forgets to change clothes and stuff. If he tiptoes around being all subtle, she’ll miss it and not even realize,” Darcy said.

“You’re making her sound real dreamy, Lewis,” he said. He took a bite of the tiramisu. It was actually good. Different, but good.

She stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re so cheerful, Rumlow,” she said.

“I’m a ray of fucking sunshine,” he said. “But this isn’t bad,” he told her, waving his fork at the tiramisu.

“Oooh, high praise, Grumpy Cat,” she told him.

“Okay, it’s really good,” he admitted.

“You want another piece?” she asked, grinning.

“Sure,” he said. She laughed and served him up a big slice.

“That is a half a tiramisu,” he said.

“Yup,” she said. The apartment doorbell rang. “Who is it, Jarvis?” Darcy asked.

“I believe it is Ms. Romanoff,” the AI said.

“Let her in,” Darcy said.

“No hiding?” Brock teased.

“She’ll just break in,” Darcy whispered glumly. “She’s probably got a date all lined up for me already.” She looked so down that Brock felt an odd pang of sympathy.

“I’ll handle it, play along,” he whispered, as Natasha walked into the room. “Romanoff,” he said in a louder voice, “how are you?”

“Oh,” Darcy said, “I didn’t know you knew each other?”

“We worked together at SHIELD, baby. It’s been awhile,” Rumlow said, casually putting his hand on Darcy’s arm.

“I did not realize Darcy had company. I am sorry, _milaya_ ,” Natasha apologized, looking as surprised as Darcy had ever seen her. For anyone else, it would have been an unflappable expression, but Darcy had seen her eyes widen a small fraction.

“It’s all right,” Darcy said cheerfully, “you want some tiramisu?”

“It’s pumpkin spice latte,” Rumlow said, in an unnaturally happy voice that make Darcy think he was enjoying playing a trick on the Black Widow. He was trailing his thumb over Darcy’s wrist, too.

“No, that is all right. I appreciate the offer,” Natasha said. “I will let you enjoy your evening,” she said, giving them a half-smile.

 

After she departed, Darcy sighed. “Thanks,” she said. “I appreciate that.”

“You realize you’re doing the same thing to Jane that the Widow wants to do with you?” Brock said, taking his hand away.

“No, no, it’s totally different. I noticed that Jane liked Jack, I’m trying to support her in a new romance. Natasha just madly throws people at you until you just want to die. Do you know I went on ten dates in two months for her?” Darcy said.

“Picky, huh?” he said wryly.

“Shut up. Do you want more?” she asked him. He looked at the tiramisu and back at his empty plate.

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“This is so not on your almond milk diet, my dude,” Darcy told him as she refilled his coffee and cut him slice three and a half. She grinned.

“So?” Brock said. “What’s your big plan?”

“Do you think he would take her to lunch?” Darcy asked. “Could you get him to? I’d like to give them time alone. Of course, we’d have to plan it so she wasn’t Science! Binging at that moment? Hmm,” Darcy said. “And I’d have to get her in decent clothes…” She trailed off and Rumlow rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t we just order in lunch and then leave them alone together?” Brock suggested. “Seems fairly fucking simple?”

“Because labs aren’t romantic?” Darcy said.

“Didn’t you pick up Thor after you hit him with a van in the desert?” he said.

“Kinda,” Darcy admitted.

“See? It’s all down to chemistry,” Brock scolded. “Let ‘em alone and see what happens, Lewis. Don’t make it complicated.”

***

 

The next day, Jane and Jack were chatting about the Great Barrier Reef when Darcy signalled to Brock behind them that they should go. She was doing a complicated set of arm waves that was somewhere between “YMCA” and directing traffic and he was silently laughing at her across the lab.

“Darce?” Jane said, looking over her shoulder. “You okay?”

“Um, yeah, I was just, uh, swatting a gnat?” Darcy said desperately. It was the first thing she could think of.

“Oh, no,” Brock said sarcastically, “not a gnat, Lewis.”

“Shut up,” she hissed at Brock.

“What?” he said with mock-innocence.

“I’m going to go get lunch?” she said to Jane. “Do you want Thai or Italian?” she asked.

“You pick,” Jane said. Darcy noticed she wasn't even engrossed in Science!, she was smiling at Jack.

“You’ll need somebody to go with you,” Jack said, half-standing up.

“You stay here. Brock can go with me,” Darcy said to Jack. “C’mon, Rumlow,” Darcy said. She yanked on Brock’s arm. He stood absolutely still, laughing at her attempts to move him.

“Really?” he said. “That’s pitiful. You have no upper body strength whatsoever,” he said, chuckling.

“Oh my God, shut your face, Rambo,” Darcy said. “Rude!” She stomped off and he followed her, disappearing down the hallway.

 

Faintly, Jane heard his voice: “Slow down, dammit. Lewis! Hold that elevator!”

"Is it just me, or are they stranger together than they are separately?" Jane asked Jack, looking curious.  
  
"I think so?" he said. She laughed. "What?" he asked.

"You have the funniest look on your face," Jane said. Then she started telling him about an upcoming conference. The four of them would be going together.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy just enjoys saying "Nacogdoches."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for the kudos and support!

Darcy and Brock argued over where to go for lunch, finally compromised on Chinese, and snuck back to the lab. Jane and Jack appeared to be talking pleasantly. “We brought you back Chinese,” Darcy said, depositing bags on the table. “But there’s an emergency on the roof, so I have to go eat and run.”

“I’ll go with you, it’s not safe,” Brock said abruptly and, seconds later, both had disappeared.

Jack stared, looking nonplussed. “Do you know what that’s about?” he asked Jane, as they ate lunch and talked.

“I have no idea,” Jane said. “She’s been acting all weird around Rumlow.”

“Wouldn’t be the first girl to be weird around him,” Jack said. Except when he said girl it sounded like ‘gell,’ which somehow made it more funny to Jane.

“Really? Tell me,” Jane said. As Jack helped her disassemble one of her custom machines to repair it, he told her about the time that a woman in a bar in Sokovia had poured an entire martini on Rumlow’s head after he’d bumped into her.

“So, she starts screaming at him in Russian and the HYDRA guy we’re with is actually from Moscow, so he starts yelling back in Russian,” Jack said, laughing. “It’s just a Russian screaming match and I’m getting about every third word, until Brock pulls out his gun and goes, ‘Everyone shut the fuck up!’ and the whole bar freezes. Turns out it’s a Russian mafia bar and the girl is some oligarch’s daughter?”

“What happened?” Jane said. He held a piece while she used the wrench to tighten the bolts. He really was very helpful, she thought.

“We ran like hell,” Jack said. “I got back to the hotel and realized a bullet had grazed my arm. I got a scar there, too,” he said, pulling up his sleeve. There was a deep gouge in his upper arm.

“Oh my God,” Jane said. It looked like a serious injury, not a graze, to her. Jack shook his head.

“HYDRA was just tits up mad like that,” he said. “I’m glad to be out of that kind of field work.”

“Really?” Jane said.

“Rumlow misses it, but I’m happy with a normal life. I’m tired of pretending to be somebody else,” he told Jane sincerely. “I want to be myself. As soon as I’ve figured out what that is now,” he said. He looked down at his toes and blushed a little again. Jane decided it was very cute.

“Well, what do you like to do?” she asked.

“I used to do a spot of carpentry and a little gardening,” he said. “We lived out on the edge of a small town in Australia when I was a kid, so you had to learn things or you’d die of boredom. But I was so busy with SHIELD, I haven’t done anything like that in years. I’d like to get outdoors again.”

“Tony has some empty hobby spaces for employees on the rec section, next to the parking basement?” Jane said. “Maybe you could put some tools there and pick it up again? Or work on the rooftop gardens? There’s a communal one on level B?”

He brightened visibly. “Could do a fair bit with teak again, once I’ve got practice,” he said.

“Do you know anything about something called a rose cactus?” Jane asked. “Darcy wants one because she saw it in a magazine once? I thought I could get it for her?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of those. You want to go pick one out for her?” he asked.

“That would be great,” Jane said.

 

“I can’t believe you’re watching them,” Rumlow said to Darcy. “Let it alone.” She’d gotten Jarvis to give her a feed of the lab. The two of them were eating lunch on the roof, since it was sunny.

“Look how happy they look, Grumpy Cat,” Darcy said. “They’re smitten. Besides, I’m just studying body language. There’s no sound.”

He groaned. “That makes it better?” he said.

“Yes?” Darcy offered. "Oh, look, he put his food down to help her with a machine repair. I love Jack." Brock snorted.

“Put your phone away,” he scolded. “It’s rude.”

“To who?” she asked. “We’re all alone up here.”

“To me, you little heathen. If we’re going to eat together, get your head out of your phone,” he said.

“You sound like my mother,” Darcy muttered to herself.

“I heard that,” he said. She put her phone away.

“Perhaps we could conversate about the weather, sir?” she said in a nasal, mock aristocratic voice. “Have you been on the Grand Tour?”

“Jesus, Lewis,” he said, “just be normal for thirty minutes, okay?”

 

***

 

That evening, Jack signed up for some workspace in the rec center with Jarvis and then told Rumlow he was going out. “You getting a drink?” Brock asked.

“Nah, I’m going to a garden center with Dr. Foster,” Jack said. “I’ll be back.”

“A garden center?” Brock said out loud, once he’d gone. “What the hell?” He picked up his phone and texted Darcy.

 

 **Agent Rambo:** Jack just went out to a garden center with Jane?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I *know.* She’s all happy.

 **Agent Rambo:** Why is my display name Rambo?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** You know you love it, my dude. Wanna come watch a movie with me?

 **Agent Rambo:** What movie?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I got _Real Genius_ , _You’ve Got Mail,_ or whatever’s on Starkstream this month?

 **Agent Rambo:** There’s a streaming service?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Yup.

 **Agent Rambo:** This place is absurd.

 

Still, he surprised her by insisting on _You’ve Got Mail._ “I like this movie,” he said, “because it’s realistic.” He was helping her make popcorn. “Did you melt real butter?” he asked.

“Realistic? People are singing at Thanksgiving celebrations and every part of the city is clean,” Darcy argued back. “How is that realistic?”

“Yeah, but her business fails and there’s no magical solution to solve it. She just has to keep going,” he said. “That’s real life.”

“Oh my God, you’re such a cynic,” Darcy said. “Everyone else in the world wants her business to survive and you’re cheering because it dies?”

“I notice you still haven’t answered my damn butter question. Is this margarine? I don’t eat that,” he said. “It’s terrible fake food.”

“Yes, it’s actual butter. You’re such a nag,” Darcy said.

 

***

 

At the garden center, Jane was mesmerized by the array of succulents. “I love all of these, they have such interesting shapes and textures,” she told Jack. He smiled. They found the rose succulent. It did, indeed, look like a tiny, perfect green rose. Jane picked out three: one for Darcy’s apartment, one for hers, and one for the lab. “And if we accidentally kill one, we still have the other two,” Jane said.

“It’s a real beaut,” Jack said. “I can see why Darcy wanted one. Succulents are the best things to start with if you’re new to plants, too. Easy to care for. You can practically neglect them, as long as they stay warm.”

“Oooh, Jack, look at these,” Jane said. “How pretty.”

“Corkscrew grass, huh?” he said, reading the label. The bright green plant did have individual leaves that looked like tiny corkscrews.

“It reminds me of birthday present ribbon,” Jane said. “My mom used to use scissors to make her ribbons curl like that whenever she wrapped presents. I can’t decide which ones to get?”

“Well, you can put them in little individual pots or you can mix them together in a bigger pot?” he offered.

“What do you think ?” she asked.

“Let’s get some of both and then see how they look?” he said. They went over to the pots and she picked out a glazed purple one and several tiny pots. Purple was Jane’s favorite color. Then Jack helped her pick out soil and they experimented with layering different succulents together in the purple pot.

“What about a terrarium?” Jack said suddenly. “Clear glass? You could pick out purple landscaping rocks and purple succulents and make that the focus?” He demonstrated by finding an angled glass bowl and filling it with pretty stones and echeveria in several purple tones: a dark, dusky eggplant with scarlet edges, a pale greyed lavender, and Jane’s favorite, an echeveria called Perle von Nurnberg. Perle von Nurnberg was a true violet. For contrast, he found her some succulents that had an odd round texture, like juicy grapes.

“Ooooh,” Jane said. “I think you missed your calling as a landscape designer,” she told him. “But what if I kill them?” she asked sadly. “They’re so pretty.”

“We’ll get you new ones,” he said, smiling. “They’ll be all right, don’t you worry.”

“Help me pick out a terrarium for Darcy? She likes wild colors,” Jane asked. They had fun picking out the gaudiest echeveria combinations and throwing them together. “Oh, that one,” Jane said, gesturing towards an orange succulent, “with that frilly one that looks like pink edged lettuce and one of the Afterglow purple ones like mine?”

“That orange crassula really clashes,” Jack said cheerfully. “Do you think she’d like an echinopsis?”

“What’s that?” Jane asked.

“Weird flowering cactus,” he said.

“She’ll love it,” Jane said. “The tackier, the better. Did I tell you she has a mini shrine to Elvis in her living room?”

“No,” Jack said, chuckling.

“I don’t know how I’m going to carry all these back?” she said, when they’d finally finished two terrariums and added a few rose succulents in tiny pots to the haul. Jack looked at everything they’d picked out.

“Why don’t we have ‘em sent back and get something to eat?” Jack suggested quietly.

“You have very good ideas,” Jane said to him, smiling. She really liked Jack. While he went to arrange having them sent back to the Tower, she took photos and sent them to Darcy.

 

 

***

 

When they were watching the movie, Darcy made a horrified sound. “I forgot that Tom Hanks is such an asshole to Meg Ryan,” she said. “He treats her horribly.”

“He’s not an asshole just because he has opinions,” Rumlow argued. “That’s called energy, Lewis. Commitment. He screws up, he regrets it. He wants to fix things, he does it.”

“Greg Kinnear is a much nicer guy,” Darcy said. “They’re more compatible.”

“Kinnear is in love with his typewriter. What is wrong with you?” Rumlow asked. “Is this why you’re single? You fall for the poetry-reading ‘lone reed’ guys in their tweed jackets?”

“Shut up,” Darcy said. “There’s nothing wrong with poetry.” She was not going to admit that Ian Boothby had owned several tweed jackets. Also, an electric typewriter. Back before he’d broken up with her, several months post-London incident, she’d sometimes fallen asleep to the sound of him clacking away at the keys. Darcy found it oddly soothing.

“Nothing wrong with poetry?” Rumlow asked. “Name a good poem, then?”

“All right,” Darcy said, pausing the movie. “I’ve got a good one.” She walked over to her locker bookshelf and returned with a slim volume. “Here, read this. Moira Egan’s “Bar Napkin Sonnet #24,” she said, handing him the chapbook, opened to the right page. “Take the whole thing, they’re all good.”

Brock scanned the page and then looked up at her in surprise. “People write poems like this?” he asked. “Sexy ones?”

“Duh, Rambo, people write all kinds of sexy poems," she said, starting the movie again. "What do you think Jack and Jane are doing right now?"

"Buying lots of plants?" Rumlow said. "He'll probably go overboard and we'll have a million ficus in the apartment."

"Maybe you would be happier with more exposure to greenery," Darcy said teasingly. "Isn't that supposed to be a mental health thing?"

"I dunno," Brock said, looking skeptically at her apartment, "you're the one with the mental health plan that includes framed photos of Elvis and Christmas lights."

"Elvis and I have a special relationship," Darcy said.

"This would be after he was dead?" Brock asked.

"Oh, so you don't know?" Darcy said. "He's still alive. He lives in a nursing home in Nacogdoches, Texas." At Brock's faintly nervous expression, she burst into laughter. "I totally got you, Rambo," she said.

"Shut up, Lewis."

 

“Oh em gee, look,” Darcy said, when she heard her text notification for Jane. “She sent me photos of the plants? He helped her find all purple ones. She _loves_ purple. Hers is very pretty and super-Instagrammy. They made me a little one, too. How cute is that?” she asked Brock. Darcy's had a rainbow of colors: purple, orange, even a soft pink that Jane said was called a moonstone succulent.

He scrutinized her pictures. “Pretty,” he said neutrally.

“You really should show more enthusiasm for your buddy’s hidden talents,” Darcy scolded him. “He’s talented.”

“They’re plants?” he said, shrugging.

“Your problem is that you have no poetry in your soul,” she told him, “I’m really impressed by Jack, though. Jane says he missed his calling as a landscape designer."

"I've got poetry in my soul," he said, offended. 

"Oooh, they got me a flower cactus? It’s orange, look, Brock. How cool is that?” she said.

“Just what you need around here, more subtle, elegant things,” he said wryly.

“Pffht, classy is overrated, my dude.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose succulents and corkscrew grass photos: https://www.housebeautiful.com/lifestyle/gardening/g4222/weird-indoor-plants/
> 
> Bar Napkin Sonnet #24 by Moira Egan: http://blog.bestamericanpoetry.com/the_best_american_poetry/2009/07/bar-napkin-sonnet-24-by-moira-egan.html


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is there such a thing as a hippie-ish bogan?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all the comments and kudos.

Jane and Jack were sitting in a little French-themed cafe that stayed open late. “This is like something out of an old movie,” Jane said. It was slightly retro. The yellow tiled walls had to be at least forty years old. They'd ordered mussels.

“Brock recommended it,” Jack admitted. “He grew up in the Bronx, I think? My grasp of New York City geography is slightly, uh, wonky? That’s the word, yeah? I only worked for SHIELD in DC.”

“How did you end up with SHIELD, anyway?” Jane asked, curious. “You don’t really seem like the type.” He’d spent the last hour in the garden center talking her about how his parents had grown ferns and, it transpired, a bit of marijuana. They’d been hippies and raised him in this weird little one stoplight town where there was nothing to do. He’d had to explain to her what a bogan was, a sort of Australian redneck. His parents had been hybrids: hippie bogans.

“I’m not a SHIELD guy, really. I sort of fell into the work. It helps that I look more intimidating than I am,” he said, smiling so widely that the corners of his eyes crinkled. It changed his whole face. For a split-second, Jane felt an odd sense of displacement, like a different guy was sitting across from her. He didn’t usually smile like that at work. She wanted to see that smile again. “But I wanted to get somewhere,” he said. “I was smart enough to get into a good school, but we didn’t have any money. I was looking for opportunities outside the Australian military when I met Fury. I thought I might go into police work, but then I met him.”

“Fury recruited you personally?” Jane asked.

“I’ve heard you’re not a fan?” Jack said, giving her a ghost of a grin as he dipped his bread in the mussels' broth. “But yeah, I met him during a hostage situation. A bunch of diplomats, including a World Security Council member, seeing a play in Sydney. They’d called our team in for support and SHIELD, too. Brock’s STRIKE team. I helped out, everyone lived, it caught Fury’s attention. But you hate him, huh?”

“He and Coulson took my research,” Jane said, sighing. “Also, everything else we had saved up. Darcy’s iPod, even my favorite pajamas. It hurt. A lot. At the time, we were living on nothing, on the fringes of the astrophysics, these weirdos with a van. No money, no tenure.” She shook her head and pried a mussel out of its shell.

“Oh,” he said. “You know, when you do this, you forget sometimes that real people are involved. I’m sorry.” He looked down for a second, then his green eyes flicked up hesitantly to her face. “I really am.”

“I think I can forgive you. It helps that we really didn’t talk then or I didn’t kick you in the shins or something,” she said. He laughed. They’d barely met in New Mexico. She’d only seen him from a distance, just another dark-suited agent in sunglasses in a sea of SHIELD agents. She’d missed Jack’s interesting face entirely: the sharp planes of his cheekbones and jaw, that thick scar across one side, the way his eyes turned up slightly at the outside corners. His eyes were his best feature--a beautiful shade of fern green. He was unusual-looking, she thought. From some angles, he was breathtakingly handsome in a traditional way, but if he looked at you from other angles, you might easily be intimidated by the way his features fit together.  There was something about his face that seemed slightly wild and almost feline.

He’d noticed her, not that she knew. Jane didn’t think about her own looks much, so she didn’t expect attention that way. He’d been rendered speechless by her beauty when he’d seen her the first time in Puente Antiguo. She’d marched up to Phil Coulson and proceeded to yell at him while Jack observed from ten feet away. Jane hadn’t even been aware of him staring and would have guessed it was because she was making a scene, not because he thought she looked angelic. He still did. He was trying not to grin like an idiot at her.

In fact, Jane had spent so much time looking at him tonight when he was smiling and pleasant that she had really forgotten to be afraid of Jack Rollins’s more intimidating expressions. She was so preoccupied with the way his stubble glinted with a touch of red in the restaurant’s light that she missed the sketchy-looking guys who passed by their booth and looked curiously at Jane. He dropped the sweet smile he’d been giving her and fixed them with look of barely-repressed menace. They practically backed out of the restaurant. “That’s a neat trick,” she told him.

“I told you, my bark’s much scarier than my bite. That’s the expression, yeah?” he asked, smiling.

“Yes,” Jane said, eating one of her steak frites. She’d decided he was an interesting combination of natural shyness, typical Aussie friendliness with her, and conditioned SHIELD sternness in his work.

“What were you thinking just then?” he asked her curiously.

“Trying to figure out if you’ve got red in your beard or it’s a trick of the light?” she said, feeling herself blush. It was weird to admit she was that into him.

“I do,” he said. “Red bearded in summer. Irish ancestors or something.” He grinned. “I guess you’re an observant scientist type?”

“No, not really, I live in my head ninety-six percent of the time. If Darcy wasn’t around, I would have starved to death or my car would have broken down in the desert around Puente Antiguo, honestly,” Jane admitted. “Poof. No more me. I need people to anchor me. Is that weird?”

“It sounds to me like you live in the stars, Jane Foster,” he said, with such a mixture of sweetness and intensity that Jane felt pulled towards him like a magnet.

“That’s a nice way of putting it,” she said, ducking her head.

“I know,” he said, “that maybe you’re not looking for anything right now and me being the security detail guy makes this more difficult, but if you’d like to try, I’d like to?” He rolled the corner of his napkin with his fingers nervously.

“Yeah,” Jane said. “I’d like that, too.”

“Yeah?” he said, giving her that dazzlingly wide smile again. “You’re not bothered that I’m being unprofessional and a bit of a scoundrel?” he asked.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Not in the slightest.”

 

He walked her back to her door that night. “I had a lovely time,” he said quietly.

“Me, too,” Jane said. “I might need your help with more succulents soon.”

“Happy to help anytime,” he said, giving her a slightly naughtier version of his gentle smile. “Day or night.”

“Uh-huh,” Jane said. He leaned in and gently kissed her goodnight on the cheek. The surprise must’ve have shown on her face, because he winked at her.

“I have been told,” he said, wryly, “that even the walls have eyes in this bloody place.”

“Wouldn’t want Tony to have us kissing on all the screens tomorrow?” Jane asked him.

“I think you might deserve better in a first kiss, sweetness,” he said. “Someplace a little more private.”

 

***

 

Once she was inside her apartment, Jane did a happy little dance around her new succulents and then texted Darcy to say she’d had a great time with Jack. They’d texted throughout the day before she and Jack had left for the garden center, so that Jack and Brock wouldn’t overhear.

 

 **Astro-mazing Scientist:** He’s so great, Darce.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I’m so glad you’re having a good time! Also, I love my succulents [hearts emoji]

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** But what am I supposed to do with this? [photo]

 **Astro-mazing Scientist:** Brock almost looks nice there.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Total illusion. He’s still a pain, but I’m happy to distract him so you and Jack can spend time together without him being all Grumpy Cat in the background?

 **Astro-mazing Scientist:** You are a good friend.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Janey, go jump Jack’s gorgeous bones. He’s 100% alone in that very nice apartment. LOL.

 **Astro-mazing Scientist:** No, Bad Darcy. Too soon. He’s a little shy.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Booooooooooooooooooo.

 **Astro-mazing Scientist:** It’s a nice change from the trou-dropping Asgardians, honestly. He’s fun, but dialed down to a normal human level.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I can’t get over how good his bones are, Janey. My godchildren are going to be so pretty. Do you think they’ll model?

 **Astro-mazing Scientist:** Darce, cut it out.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Fine, I’ll go poke Grumpy Cat.

 

Darcy looked over at Rumlow. He’d fallen asleep on her couch with his head on her Minion pillow. That fourth beer had done him in. He’d passed out sometime after Darcy had caught him trying not to cry when Meg Ryan closed her mom’s bookstore. He was a total liar, Darcy thought. She covered him with a blanket and went to bed.

 

***

 

The next morning, Darcy was shimmying in the kitchen to Camille Cabello’s “Havana” when Brock surprised her. “Somebody’s in a good mood,” he said, leaning against the doorframe of her guest bathroom.

“Ahh!” she yelled, dropping her sugar packets. She’d been shaking them in time to the song as her coffee brewed. “You scared me,” she said sternly. “I thought you’d left already.” His hair was wet and he had one of her towels over his shoulder. He’d actually showered. In her bathroom. She didn’t know how to feel about strange Italian in her tub. Thankfully, he was dressed in his clothes from last night.

“Nah, I thought I’d make you breakfast since you let me sleep in,” he said. Darcy decided not to interrogate the sleeping in thing, since it was seven-thirty. He was probably one of those people who went to the gym at five o’ clock in the morning. Explained his moods.

“You cooked?” she asked instead, looking at the bare countertop.

“I paid, so that counts, right?” he said. Just then, the doorbell rang. “That’ll be it,” he said.

 

It turned out that ‘it’ were pastries from a really good Italian bakery that delivered to the Tower. “How is this on your almond milk diet?” she asked him.

“I come home a few times a year,” he said. “I make exceptions for home food.” Darcy really liked the napoleon pastries, but Brock was insistent that she try the cannoli. “They’re not as good as the ones you can get in Belmont, but they’re decent,” he said.

“This is your sales pitch?” Darcy teased.

“I figured the girl in the sock monkey pajamas wasn’t too particular not to enjoy sugar,” he said back.

“Shut up. What’s Belmont?” she asked. She liked her cheery pj prints. Sock monkeys, stars, donuts, unicorns, whatever. Trust Mr. All-Black Tactical Gear to mock.

“Little Italy, goober,” he said sarcastically. “The real one. In the Bronx, not that tourist show on Mulberry. You’ve never been?” He sounded incredulous.

“Jane is too much of a workaholic not to live on neighborhood delivery,” Darcy said. “I’ve dragged her to some museums and stores, but it’s a challenge to get her out of the lab, much less to the Bronx. We haven’t lived in the city all that long, either. We’re always headed off to some remote, bakery-free corner of the planet where the stars are and stuff,” she told him. She shuddered.

“What?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“I was having a traumatic flashback to cod’s tongue and rakfisk. Have you ever seen that show New Scandinavian Cooking on PBS? Where they roast weird fish on rocks?” she asked.

“Yeah?” He nodded and frowned.

“That’s what Norwegian food is actually like. It’s like a weird combo of Irish cabbage and potatoes and fermented fish?” she said. She scrunched her face up. “It’s so awful, dude. I was just freezing my ass off and eating plain potatoes?”

“I’ll take you to Little Italy,” Brock said, with the kind of weird, goal-oriented solemnity he reserved for work. “You free tonight or are you working late?” He passed her another cannoli. A sympathy cannoli, Darcy thought.

“Yeah, I’m free,” Darcy said. “Jane and Jack have a second date planned. She just texted me to say he wants to go to a furniture show and dinner with her tonight?” She licked cannoli cream off her fingers.

“A furniture show?” Brock said. “Why the hell does he want to go to a furniture show?

“He wants to start woodworking again?” Darcy said. “He’s got a spot saved in the rec area, too. He’s going to help us put together the new plants today.”

“Huh. I’ll call and make reservations at Carlo’s on Arthur Avenue for us,” he said, getting his phone. “Seven okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “That’d be great.”

“Maybe we can stop by Borgatti’s sometime, too. You’d like Borgatti’s, Lewis. They sell pasta. Not Scandinavian,” he told her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up the restaurants in this chapter, but Arthur Avenue/Little Italy in the Bronx has a lot of Italian restaurants and shops, including Borgatti's fresh pasta shop, which looks *amazing*--https://www.borgattis.com


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is busy imagining her future as Jack & Jane's eventual nanny/baby-spoiler-in-chief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos!

Jane arrived a few minutes later, followed by Jack, who was carrying her succulents. Darcy had told them both to come over for cannoli and terrarium arrangement before they went down to the lab. Brock and Jack seemed to have a momentary weirdness when Jack came in. They were exchanging significant looks. Jane had settled happily onto the floor and was assembling her terrarium parts on Darcy’s coffee table and explaining to Darcy how it was all meant to work. Darcy, bugged by Brock’s expression, decided to interrupt.

“Jack?” she asked, “will you come help us?”

“Sure thing, Darce,” he said, squeezing in between she and Jane to explain how to layer the soil and rocks. Brock watched them from Darcy’s kitchen island with a skeptical look.

“Thanks,” Jane told Jack, beaming. “Oooh, Darce, put your orange one next to the silvery blue one?”

“I was gonna put it next to those blob ones?” Darcy said, pointing to the pinkish things that looked like jellybeans. Brock snorted.

“Blob ones?” he said, walking over and peering at the glass bowls.

“They’re called Haworthia cooperi,” Jack said. “The leaves are transparent, that’s why they look rounded.”

“Can I touch them?” Darcy asked. Jane laughed.

“Of course,” Jack said. “It’s perfectly safe.”

Darcy poked gently at a leaf. “Cool,” she said.

“Can I touch them?” Brock said, mocking her voice. “What, are you five?”

“Brock Rumlow, why are you the way that you are? Can’t you enjoy Jack’s interesting thing?” Darcy said.

“Yes, you’re very talented,” Jane told Jack.

“It’s super cool,” Darcy agreed, nodding.

“I feel sad for you that you think this, right here, is cool,” Brock said, waving his hand over the plants.

“These are awesome,” Darcy and Jane said in unison. Jack smiled at them.

“Thanks,” Jack said quietly. Brock snorted.

“Go eat your cannoli, then,” Darcy said to Brock. “Killjoy.”

“Excuse me, I gave you the last one,” he said. “Give it back.”

“Children, please don’t fight, you’re interrupting my quality crafting time,” Jane said. “Jack, what do you think of these two next to one another?” She’d arranged one of Perle von Nurnberg echeverias next to a blush-pink and purplish haworthia.

“Looks stunning,” Jack said, beaming at her.

“What should I name my rose succulent, Janey? Rosita?” Darcy asked.

Jane looked thoughtful. “Too on the nose?” she offered. Darcy nodded.

“Jack, you have ideas?” Darcy asked.

“Merindah,” he said genially. “It’s ‘beautiful’ in Gadigal, one of the Aboriginal languages.” He’d been thinking of Australia.

“Oh, that’s too beautiful for a plant,” Jane said. A random thought popped into Darcy’s head: it would be a great baby name. She was mentally plotting out Jane and Jack’s wedding and her eventual, adorable goddaughter Merindah Darcy Rollins--she’d buy Merindah little ballet outfits--when Brock spoke up.

“You’re gonna name it?” Brock said. He’d only been half paying attention to what they were saying as Darcy and Jane played with the succulents. Darcy had been making airplane noises as she arranged hers. “Name a plant?” he asked skeptically.

“Doesn’t it need one?” Darcy said. “I can’t just say ‘hey, plant,’ if I’ve got multiples?” He scoffed.

Once she was done with her terrarium, Darcy got up to have another pastry and Brock followed her into the kitchen. “Wash your hands,” he scolded, “dirt has germs.”

“Yes, mama,” she said back. She’d intended to anyway.

“What are these?” She pointed to a pastry.

“Lobster tails,” Brock said.

“Do they have lobster in them?” Darcy asked.

“No, that’s for the shape, these are salted caramel, that one’s cream, there’s a chocolate hazelnut,” he told her. He’d bought a lot of pastries, Darcy thought. So much for his diet.

“Want to split one with me?” she asked. “You pick.”

“Chocolate hazelnut,” Brock said decisively. He’d split it in half and was jokingly trying to smear Nutella on Darcy’s nose when Jack looked up at them from across the room. Jack frowned.

 

“Ok, gang,” Jane announced, getting up. “It’s Science! Time. Let’s go to work.”

“I’ve got to go change clothes,” Brock said. “I’ll meet you in the lab.” He left the apartment..

“He slept here?” Jane said to Darcy. “All night?”

“On the couch,” she said.

“Uh-huh,” Jane said.

“Don’t uh-huh me, Janey, there’s nothing between me and him,” Darcy said.

“Really?” she asked. To Jack, Jane said, “Darcy always says she only attracts nerds, but I think it’s just that she ignores more macho guys because she actually likes skinny guys.”

“Shut up, that is not true,” Darcy said. “I attract Ians. You know this. I don’t have a nerd fetish.” They bickered playfully about Darcy’s dating history.

Neither noticed that Jack looked relieved to hear that Brock wasn’t Darcy’s usual type and that Darcy thought there was no spark between them. He had been worried when he saw Brock’s behavior this morning. Jack did not want Brock flirting with Darcy and somehow messing up his chances with Jane by leading Darcy on or having a cheesy fling with Jane’s best friend. Jack loved him like a brother, but Brock was not a relationship guy. His longest relationship in their several years of partnership had been a casual fling with another SHIELD agent: Sharon Carter. It had fizzled out before the HYDRA Uprising and then Brock--fake dead at the time--had learned she’d moved on quickly with Cap. It was a touchy subject, for a variety of reasons.

 

***

At lunchtime, Jane and Darcy took Jack up to the rooftop garden. It was really nice weather.They were doing a half-day in the lab, so Jane and Jack could leave early for the furniture show. Jane gave him a tour while Darcy sat in a lounge chair and watched them. It was really cute. They were walking arm in arm together. Darcy had already decided she could live vicariously through Jane’s romance with Jack and be the maiden aunt or whatever, when Brock plopped down beside her. “What are you thinking about?” he asked her.

“They’re going to make beautiful children and I’m going to be their nanny-slash-housekeeper and live above the garage,” Darcy said. “I’ll spoil the kids rotten and feed them chocolate cake for breakfast. He’ll be an award-winning landscape designer and she’ll do important Science! Thingies, so the kids will need their Aunt Darce. I wonder if they’ll take me to Australia for holidays?”

“You have an overactive imagination,” he told her. “Ready for dinner?”

“It’s two-thirty,” Darcy said quizzically.

“There’s a stop I want to make first,” he said. “You have on sturdy shoes?”

She looked down at her ballet flats. “Umm?” she said.

“You’ll need to switch ‘em,” he said. “We’re going,” he called to Jack and Jane.

“Have fun tonight!” Darcy said, waving.

 

“Where are they going this early?” Jane wondered aloud, once they’d left.

“No idea,” Jack said. “He hasn’t said.”

“Do you think something is going on there?” Jane asked him. Jack decided to answer honestly. He really liked Jane.

“I hope not,” he said. “For her sake, I mean.”

“Why?” she asked. Jack sighed.

“He’s never met a woman he didn’t do a Harry on,” he said.

“What?” Jane said.

“Oh, it means disappear on, love. I forget Americans don’t know--Harry Holt was our prime minister who went for a swim and never came back?” he said. “Probably drowned, but it’s sort of like the Australian expression for go AWOL.”

“Huh,” Jane said. “You mean he’s never seriously dated anybody?”

“No,” Jack said. “Not seriously. He’s dated plenty of women, but never for more than a few weeks at a go. Usually drops ‘em like hot rocks.”

“That’s too bad. I thought we could double date?” Jane said sweetly. He smiled.

“Darce’ll find somebody right,” Jack said. “We’ll double date then. Somebody I won’t have to call screen pissed off women for,” he said hopefully.

“That was your job?” Jane asked, laughing.

“All of ‘em mad as a cut snake, usually,” he said. “There was one woman I thought was handling it all right, but then she slashed his tires.”

Seeing Jack’s beleaguered expression, Jane laughed so hard she snorted. He had the decency to insist it was cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Mad as a cut snake" is a great expression, right?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killing time in the Bronx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for your comments and kudos!

The furniture show was really cool. It wasn’t a big commercial as-seen-on-HGTV thing, like Jane had been expecting, it was run by a woodworkers’ guild. Jack spent several minutes talking to a bearded guy who refurbished salvaged wood from old buildings and turned them into daybeds.

“Oh my gosh, I love that,” Jane, gesturing to a wooden coffee table. It had been carved into a sinuous shape and polished to be glossy.

“Thank you,” the woman who’d made it said.

“How do you get it so shiny?” Jane asked curiously.

“I started out making guitars,” the woman told her, “so I adapted the French polish technique for them to my furniture pieces.”

“Do you still make guitars?” Jack asked.

“I do,” the woman said, handing him a card.

 

“Why’d you take that card?” Jane asked him, when they were eyeing an inlaid dining table.

“I thought I might buy a guitar,” Jack said.

“You play?” she said, smiling. The idea of Jack plus guitar was exceptionally hot.

“I’m terrible, but Brock is quite good,” he said. “He’s tried to teach me. Wouldn’t be bad for him to have a hobby, too.”

“You should buy two guitars then,” Jane said, turning and walking towards a set of wood and metal bookshelves that had caught her attention.

“You’d like that, love?” he called after her.

“Only one way to find out!” she said.

“I’m buying two bloody guitars,” Jack muttered to himself, grinning, as he followed her. “That won’t be cheap.”

 

***

Brock and Darcy took the subway to the Bronx. She felt strangely safe with him on the subway car. It was like she had her own personal space bubble when he stood next to her. People tended to bump Darcy when she was alone, but they avoided the two of them together. “Is the glare a SHIELD trick?” she asked.

“Huh?” He looked confused.

“Nobody bumps you,” she explained. “Is it that face you’re making?”

He shook his head. “No idea, Lewis,” he said. “This is our stop.” He herded her out of the subway car and up into the street.

“Where are we going?” Darcy asked him.

“It’s a surprise, kid,” Brock said. They walked for a few minutes until a sign came into view: The New York Botanical Gardens.

 

“You’re taking me to a garden? You hate plants,” she said, incredulous, when he pulled printed-out tickets from his jacket pocket at the gate.

“But you like flowers, right?” he said casually.  “We needed to kill a few hours to give Jane and Jack alone time and this is as good as anywhere in the Bronx. Just wander around, go look at the conservatory. I should mention this place to Jack,” he said thoughtfully.

“He’d like it,” Darcy said, looking around. The grounds were beautiful.

“The orchid show is running right now,” Brock said. “My mother comes every year.” He pulled out his phone.

“I wasn’t sure you had a mother,” Darcy teased.

“Ha ha,” he said. “She lives in the suburbs outside of New Haven now.” He sounded scornful.

“Connecticut?” Darcy asked. “What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s not the Bronx,” he said, so grimly that Darcy had to suppress a laugh. He waved her off and she drifted around, gazing at everything. It was unusually warm and sunny--60 degrees in the full sun--for mid-March, so the gardens were packed. Darcy quickly got separated from him. Or she thought she did; he was trailing about four feet behind her at all times. He was still technically at work.

 

***

**Agent Rambo:** You should take Foster to the orchid show [website link]. See if Stark can swing tickets for one of the evening things, if it's sold out? There’s booze and girly flowers.

**Agent Outback:** Thanks, mate. Appreciate it.

**Agent Rambo:** They changed your display name in the damn Stark system, too?

**Agent Outback:** I like it.

**Agent Rambo:** You’re just lucky it wasn’t Crocodile Dundee.

**Agent Outback:** Too right.

**Agent Outback:** You think you could show me a few chords again?

**Agent Rambo:** If your lousy playing impresses Foster, I’ll know she’s in love.

**Agent Outback:** Nick off, Brock.

**Agent Rambo:** You’re totally playing this Aussie thing up to get Foster to swoon, too, you fraud. Your accent’s never been this strong before. What the hell does nick off mean, anyway?

**Agent Outback:** I’ll give you three guesses, mate.

 

***

Darcy was taking photos of the orchids in the conservatory for Jane and practically swooning when Brock tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped. “Ahh!” she said.

“You’re very easily startled,” he said casually. “What do you think of the orchids?”

“I love them,” Darcy said. “Especially these,” she said, pointing to some orange-pink blooms. They went down another corridor of the sprawling conservatory. It was like a greenhouse maze, Darcy thought. “This is like something in London,” she told him. “Very Victorian.”

“Yeah,” he said. “The do a holiday train thing I used to love as a kid. They snake trains all through here.”

“Cool. I’d like to see that,” Darcy said sincerely. He rolled his eyes and was about to steer her to another wing when a loud voice called out his name.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered.

“Who is that?” Darcy said, turning. A dark-haired older woman was making her way through the crowd towards them in a flurry of movement.

“That,” he said grimly, “is my mother.”

“Awwwwwww,” Darcy said. “I get to meet your mom! Hi, Brock’s mom!” Darcy waved at Mrs. Rumlow and he groaned.

 

Brock’s mother was really beautiful. "Oh em gee, your mother is Sophia Loren?" Darcy asked in a whisper as she walked up. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm not telling her that," he said. "She'll adopt you." 

Mrs. Rumlow had the kind of look that Darcy’s mother always called “dramatic” in an approving, envious way: dark, arched brows, high cheekbones, and green-brown eyes. Brock’s eyes, Darcy realized, when Mrs. Rumlow got closer to them. She was wearing an embroidered scarf around her shoulders and a stack of Bakelite bracelets on her wrists. On someone less striking, it might have looked tacky, but on her it was somehow appropriate.

“Honey, I didn’t know you’d be here!  Fallon and Jim are over there,” she said to Brock happily. “Jim! Fallon! Brock’s here!” she called over her shoulder into the crowd. 

“It sounds like my sister and her husband are here, too,” he said apologetically to Darcy. “Ma, quit yelling and text Fal, there’s a million people here,” he scolded. “She can’t actually hear you.”

“He’s embarrassed of me. He’s been ashamed of his mother ever since he turned thirteen,” she told Darcy without preamble. Abruptness was apparently a family trait. “He was such a sweet baby, though,” she said. “So affectionate. Come hug your mother, you heathen,” she fussed. Once he’d begrudgingly hugged her, she turned to Darcy and smiled.

“Honey, you’re young and gorgeous, you can do better than him,” she said, looking Darcy up and down. “He’s practically old enough to be your father! What are you, like twenty?” she asked. Brock groaned more audibly and rubbed his face in what Darcy thought was genuine horror.

“I’m twenty-nine, Mrs. Rumlow,” Darcy said politely.

“Is it your first one? I’ve been twenty nine since Nixon was president,” she said. “It’s Mrs. Vitale now, sweetie, but you can call me Angela.”

“Darcy Lewis,” Darcy said, shaking her hand. She was slightly surprised when Angela Vitale gave her a big squeeze.

“That’s a pretty name, honey. God, she’s beautiful,” she said to Brock. “Look at that face! Does she even know you’re forty-two?” his mother asked.

“Ma, for Chrissakes, this is not a date. Lewis works at Stark with me,” he said. “I’m her security detail.”

“Oh God, don’t tell me that. He’s too old for that kind of work, I keep telling him,” she said to Darcy. “He needs to retire. My second husband owns a landscaping business. Why don’t you come work for Paul?” she said to her son.

“Ma, I’m not moving to New Haven,” he said.

“Jack wouldn’t mind working for Paul,” Darcy said politely, trying for a change of topic. “Agent Rollins is interested in landscape design,” she said to Angela. “He got me and my boss some plants yesterday.”

“Oh, I love Jack! Such a cute fella. That accent, it kills me. They just grow ‘em big and handsome down there, don’t they? That Hugh Jackman, he’s my favorite,” Angela said. “Or those Hemsworth brothers. Is Jack still single? Honey, you should be with him here, not my grouch of a son. He hates nature.”

“I don’t hate nature,” Brock said defensively. His mother ignored him.

“Jack’s only thirty-eight, too,” Angela said. “Still young enough to chase kids.”

“Jack’s dating my best friend Jane, actually,” Darcy clarified. “They’re super cute together.”

“Lucky girl,” she said. “She better be prettier than you, honey, or you missed a good thing.” Brock snorted.

“Oh very much so,” Darcy said. “Jane is a total ballerina. She used to date Thor. I’m the second banana in our little outfit.”

“Thor?! Is that the famous scientist girl, Dr. Jane Whatsit? She _is_ beautiful,” Angela said. “I’ve seen her in _People_ magazine.”

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said, smiling. “That’s my Janey.”

“Foster. Dr. Foster,” Brock corrected his mother.

“You’re guarding famous people now,” Angela said to him. “This girl, she knows all the Avengers.”

“Ma, I worked with Captain America, Hawkeye, and the Black Widow for years,” he grumbled. “ _I_ know Avengers.”

“Yeah, but you aren’t _friends_ with them, are you? That was just work. Her best friend actually dated Thor! That’s impressive.”

“Thanks,” Darcy said. It was rare that anyone found her impressive. She grinned at Brock’s frustrated expression.

“Have you actually met Bucky Barnes?” Angela asked Darcy.

“Nope, sorry, I hear he’s still getting medical help someplace,” Darcy said. Someplace was actually Wakanda, but they’d promised Steve that they wouldn’t share that info outside of Avengers Tower. Tony and Steve had patched things up, but Bucky was somewhere in the Wakandan countryside with Steve and Sharon Carter, according to Natasha.

“Oh, those blue eyes, I just want to cuddle that poor abused boy and make him a nice hot meal,” Angela said. “What you did to him was _horrible._ ” She glared at Brock.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I was undercover and also that we shouldn’t discuss it at a damn flower show?” Brock said in a low voice, looking around cautiously.

“Do you see how rude he is? I didn’t raise him to be so rude. C’mon, we need to find your sister, I’m hungry. You want to go to dinner with us in the old neighborhood, honey?” Angela asked Darcy.

“Sure,” Darcy said. She looked at Brock.

“We have reservations at Carlo’s,” Brock said flatly. His mother scoffed.

“And he tries to say this isn’t a date? Besides, Carmine's is much better than Carlo’s. Carlo’s is new and all fancy, but Carmine's is the real Arthur Avenue restaurant, honey. Been there for decades,” Angela told Darcy.

“Ma, Carmine's is too much for her,” Brock objected. “She won’t like how noisy it is.”

“What do you need quiet for? She’ll love it. She’s a friendly girl. You’re the one who hates having to sit with strangers,” Angela said. She and Brock started to bicker and were actually debating the tenderness of veal at one point.

“Carlo is actually Italian,” Brock was insisting. “He cooked for Sinatra. He knows veal.”

“Phhft, who is he? He shows up four years ago, you decide he’s the expert now?” Angela challenged. Darcy looked between them like she was watching a tennis match. Apparently, having opinions on what constituted “real” Italian food was a family trait, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally want to go to that orchid show. The online photos look amazing. Here's where someone went to an Orchid Evening: https://bklynorchids.com/2016/03/14/my-first-orchid-evenings-at-nybg/


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brock Reynolds was a character on The Young & The Restless in the 1970s and 80s.
> 
> (ch. update 1 of 2 for 7/26)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all the comments and kudos.

“Brock and Fallon, huh?” Darcy asked quietly, as they followed his mother through the orchids. She was still looking for Fallon and Jim. Brock had given in on the restaurant, but there had been a mini-argument about parking when his mother insisted they all ride together in Jim’s Volvo.

“She named us after her favorite soap opera characters,” he said in that grim voice.  

“That’s adorable,” Darcy said. “Fallon from Dynasty? You could have been called Blake.” Brock scoffed. “What? I really like your mom,” she told him.

“You’re clearly insane,” he said.

“How so?” she asked.

“You find my mother charming, you think Jane is the pretty one, you own actual Minion pillows, and you have a shrine to Elvis?” he offered. “I could go on, but that would involve doing the little airplane noises you made putting together a terrarium this morning and I’ve already been humiliated enough in public today,” Brock said. "I'm sorry about the restaurant."

“It’s okay, Grumpy Cat,” Darcy said, patting his arm comfortingly. “I can handle Carmine's. I survived Norway.”

“Just my damn luck she would be here,” he said, shaking his head.

“Is Carlo’s that nice?” Darcy asked, curious.

“Yeah,” he said. “Why?” He looked at her suspiciously. “I swear to God, Lewis, this isn’t a da--” he began, but she cut him off.

“No, I mean, should we give Jane and Jack our reservation?” she asked.

“Someone should enjoy their meal tonight,” he said bitterly.

“I’ll text them,” Darcy said.

 

***

 

“This place is really nice,” Jane said, when they had borrowed Brock’s reservation and taken the subway north. The restaurant had red-checked tablecloths and nicely dim lighting. “Look at that,” she said, looking up. The ceiling was tin tiles with a section of stained glass in the center. It looked old.

“Pretty. Brock’s a good ‘un for restaurant recs,” Jack said. He laughed. “He’s probably so mad he had to give up this reservation to eat with his mum.”

“Why? Is she not nice?” Jane asked.

“No, she’s a good woman, but she can be a bit boisterous, you know? She’s nice to me, but she and him are always having a dustup,” he said.

“A dustup?” Jane asked.

“Scrapping like feral cats, usually in public,” he supplied cheerfully. “He refused to let her come to the SHIELD office because he was terrified Fury would see her having a yell at him and it would undermine his credibility as STRIKE commander.” Jack grinned widely.

“That’s a visual,” Jane said, as they looked at their menus. “What should we order?”

“You like clams?” Jack asked her. “The oreganata’s my favorite.”

“I do,” Jane said. “I love all seafood, really. I’d like to try it.”

 

They ended up ordering several things. It was a really nice meal, Jane thought, but her favorite part was listening to Jack talk about the ocean. He was interested in her knowledge of the stars’ impact on tidal patterns. “I’d like to live by the ocean one day,” he told her.

“I love the sound of the water lapping, too,” Jane admitted. “I spent part of my childhood on Long Island when my dad was in graduate school with Erik Selvig and we used to spend all summer at the beach.”

“Your dad was a physicist, too?” Jack asked. “That’s impressive.”

“Yup, I’m second-generation. He got me interested in science as a little girl. We did science fairs. I won all these ribbons,” she said.

“Where is he now?” Jack asked.

“Oh, he retired this year. My mom was a professor of architecture, so both of them retired from teaching. They moved their stuff into my brother’s basement and now they’re doing these weird long RV trips?” she said. “Yesterday, they were in Salinas, California, looking at Victorian architecture?” She pulled out her phone. “That’s John Steinbeck’s house.” She showed him the photos.

“That’s really interesting,” Jack said sincerely.

“You think so?” Jane asked doubtfully. Most people would find that boring.

“Victorian architecture? Yeah,” he said. “We have some interesting stuff like that in Australia, too. Mixtures of European style that look like houses in America or the UK and local influences,” he said. “They call it Queenslander style? All this carved fretwork. I tried to make a piece once, replicate something for my nan’s house? She’d lost an eave bracket in a storm.”

“Yeah?” Jane asked. “How old were you?”

“About sixteen. It was a total wreck,” he said, laughing. “That stuff is really hard to do. See this scar?” He pointed to his arm. “That’s from the saw. After that, she told me she didn’t need the bracket!” He laughed.

“Oh, no,” Jane said. “Were you badly hurt?”

“Not too badly, but it took about six coats of primer and two of paint to hide the bloodstains on the wood,” he said, chuckling.

 

***

 

Carmine's was different from any restaurant Darcy had ever been to: there were no menus, groups of strangers sat together, and the waiters talked in rapid-fire bursts of information over the Sinatra track. “What do I order?” Darcy asked Brock. The crowd seemed older and more local. She felt like she stuck out.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said quietly. He’d made sure she sat between him and his sister, so Darcy wouldn’t have to sit next to a stranger.

“Get her the veal,” his mother said. “They make the best veal, honey. Chazz Palminteri comes here all the time.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. “He’s a good actor?” she offered. She let Brock order for her.

“You’re trying not to freak out, aren’t you?” Fallon asked quietly.

“Veal is a baby cow, right?” Darcy said, grimacing. Darcy ate meat, but she’d never had veal.

“You get used to it. I tried to be a vegetarian in college and she threw a fit,” Fallon said, smiling. “It lasted about a week,” she said. Fallon was a few years older than Darcy and gorgeous. She looked like a younger version of her mother, except she had long, curly hair arranged in an artful bun. It was sort of a goddess look. The whole family was naturally tan and striking in a way that made Darcy feel especially pale and lumpy by comparison. Also, she was sweating in the small restaurant. When she slipped out of her coat, Brock’s mother did a double-take.

“Honey, are those real or implants? Because I want the name of your doctor!” Angela said. The other end of the table laughed and several older people turned to look at Darcy.

“They’re real,” Darcy said, wanting to laugh out loud. Fallon’s husband, a very nice, quiet CPA, was pointedly not looking at Darcy’s chest.

“Jesus Christ, Ma,” Brock said. “She could sue me for sexual harassment.”

“What? She has great boobs. She knows this. You know this, right? Enjoy them while you can. Show them to Captain America when you get the chance, honey,” Angela said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Darcy said, laughing. “Will do. Flash at eleven!” she joked, trying to show she wasn’t easily offended or going to sue anybody.

“He is _so_ handsome,” Fallon said.

“Brock introduced them once, before Fallon was married,” Angela supplied. “Sorry, Jimmy.” Jim shrugged.

“Cap’s loss,” he said softly. He was cute and seemed besotted with Fallon. A sweeter, more loyal Ian type, Darcy thought.

“Anyhow, Fallon says his eyes are that blue,” Angela said. “In real life.”

“And his _smile,_ ” Fallon said with a sigh. “If I wasn’t a happily married woman…”

“They are lovely eyes,” Darcy admitted. “If you like blue eyes.”

“Who doesn’t?” Angela said. “Blonde hair, blue eyes, that Paul Newman look, that’s the most handsome a man can be.”

“Gee, thanks, Ma,” Brock said wryly.

“Like you’ve ever had trouble with women,” Fallon said. “Not that you’d ever commit to any of them long enough for them to know your actual eye color.”

“What does that mean?” Brock asked his sister, leaning around Darcy’s back.

“When you only pick up women in bars, do they really know what you look like? I mean, Stephanie O’Neal knew, but who else does?” Fallon said.

“Not this again,” Brock said. “I didn’t realize she was your friend from ninth grade, okay?”

“What would that have changed?” Fallon said. “Are you saying you’d have treated her better? Returned her phone calls?”

“No,” he said, “I just would have run in the other direction. She was always a lunatic.”

“That is not fair and you know it,” Fallon said. “She really liked you!”

“Will you be quiet?” Brock asked and they both lowered their voices.

“I’m sort of partial to green eyes,” Darcy said to Angela, ignoring the whispered bickering behind her back.

“Like Jack,” Angela said, nodding. “Beautiful eyes.”

“Or Hrithik Roshan,” Darcy supplied. “Bollywood actor,” she said, handing her phone to Angela. “His eyes are perfect. Like gemstones or something? Somewhere between green and brown?”

“Very handsome,” Angela said. “Brock’s father was dark like that. Just a gorgeous man.”

“Your family is very beautiful,” Darcy told her.

“Thank God, because they behave like heathens,” she said, shaking her head. “What a nice girl you are. It’s too bad, really.”

“What’s too bad, Ma?” Brock asked, breaking away from his argument with his sister.

“Why can’t you meet a nice girl?” his mother said.

“Because he’s a tramp,” Fallon said crisply. “No nice woman would have him.”

“Oh my God,” Brock said, groaning. “Please stop.”

“I’m depending on you for grandchildren,” Angela said to Jimmy. “It doesn’t matter that he’s the spitting image of his beautiful father, he’ll never give me any. He can’t even live in the same place.” She waved her arm at Brock.

“How many children do you want?” Darcy asked Jimmy, taking some of the cheese and mushroom ravioli he offered from one of the plates. Carmine’s served food family-style. “This is great,” she said. He nodded.

“Two or three kids,” he said, smiling. “We’re trying to get pregnant now,” he said, ducking his head shyly.

“I love him,” Angela said. “He is the sweetest boy.” She patted him on the shoulder. “I’m so glad there are some sweet people in this family,” she said pointedly at Fallon and Brock.

“Do you even hear what she’s implying about me, Ma?” Brock said back, raising his voice so Darcy could hear.

“I think calling you a manwhore is more than implied,” Fallon said. At his frustrated look, she said, “What? It’s nothing you haven’t heard before. He usually agrees with me and brags about it,” Fallon said to Darcy. “I thought you were proud of yourself, Mr. I’m-Never-Getting-Married?” she asked Brock.

“We’re in public and this is my friend and coworker,” he said, gesturing at Darcy. “You’re embarrassing me, Fal.” She snorted.

“Since when do you have friends who are women?” Fallon said. “Don’t fall for it, Darcy, honey. For him, friend is strictly a male term.” Brock was still sputtering at his sister in anger when his mother piped up.

“You know, for a while, we thought he and Jack might be a couple?” Angela said. “I was a little disappointed. Jack would have been a good son-in-law, too.” Her voice was mournful.

“Uh-huh, I bet so,” Darcy said. “Jack’s a sweetheart. Anyone would love him.”

“Such a helpful person,” Angela said. “I bet he takes good care of his parents.”

“Ma,” Brock said, “will you stop comparing me to Jack?” Then he started arguing again with his mother and his sister about privacy and meddling and someone called Stephanie. There was also a Lauren who, Darcy learned, had been Fallon’s friend back in high school, too. He’d slept with her on his last visit home. They got louder. And louder. Eventually, Fallon swore and stomped off the ladies room, which seemed to break the tension for a bit. Then Brock and his mother had some intense, half-whispered debate about how much he was like his father and Fallon came back and joined in.

“What do we do?” Darcy asked Jimmy. He shrugged.

“Eat?” he said. “It’ll blow over. Try the other ravioli, too. It’s the special.”

“Okey-dokey,” Darcy said. At least her chicken marsala was really good, Darcy thought, applying herself to eating. Much better than Norwegian food. She could eat this food everyday. She smiled and winked at a ninety year old man eyeing the Rumlows arguing dubiously from the next table. Brock tossed his napkin down and said something that was probably very rude in Italian to his sister. The old man looked horrified.

“I can’t take him anywhere,” Darcy said, pointing her thumb at Brock. “I apologize.”

“Come sit with us, _bellissima_ ,” the old man said cheerfully in a voice like rustling paper.

"Awwww," Darcy said, beaming. "Thank you!"

“Are you flirting with Old Joe? He’s ninety-three,” Brock said, incredulously. He’d finally registered her presence again.

“I always did like a distinguished older gentleman,” Darcy said, batting her eyelashes playfully and doing her best southern girl flirt at Joe. Her Georgia-born roommate at Culver had taught her. Joe grinned back at her.

“ _Voglio invecchiare con te,_ ” he said, opening his arms wide.

“What does that mean?” Darcy asked, smiling widely. It sounded wonderful.

“He said he wants to grow old with you,” Brock said. “Cut it out, Joe, you’re already old,” he scolded.

“Be nice, Brock,” Darcy said to him, elbowing his arm. Brock looked at her curiously.

The squabble appeared to be over, because Brock turned calmly back to his mother and insisted on paying the bill for everyone. “No, no, I’m paying my own bill.” Darcy said.

“You can’t, they only take cash here,” Brock said. “Put your card away. I’ve got this.”

“Are you sure? This makes me feel awkward,” Darcy said. “You already bought tickets today, too.”

“This makes you feel awkward?” he said skeptically. “Not the shouting match?”

“Yes,” Darcy said firmly. “Much more awkward. Please let me pay for something.”

“No,” he said.

“I like her,” Angela said suddenly. “She’s much less stuck up than that one girl you brought over that one time, that skinny blonde?”

“Sharon Carter,” Fallon said promptly.

“You dated _Sharon Carter_?” Darcy said, stunned. “The Sharon Carter?”

“What? It’s not like she’s the Queen of England, Lewis,” Brock said. “Besides, it was barely a thing.”

“She’s Peggy Carter’s great-niece and now she dates Captain America,” Darcy said. “It’s definitely a thing. She’s practically the Crown Princess of SHIELD.”

“Captain America? Someone moved up in the world,” Fallon said, mischief glinting in her eyes. “Didn’t she ditch you, Brock?” Even Jimmy looked curious.

“Well, this explains why you don’t like Captain America,” Brock’s mother said. “I thought you were just jealous because he’s younger and better-looking.”

“I like him fine,” Brock said. “We get along okay. And technically, Cap’s the same age as Joe over there.”

“Oh my God, did you stab Sharon during the whole DC thing because she left you for Steve?” Darcy asked, horrified at the realization.

“I didn’t stab her, I just lightly grazed her with my knife, okay? She knew what was up, we were both working undercover at the time,” he said. “We’re still friends.”

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said. “I thought you didn’t have female friends?”

“He doesn’t,” Fallon said.

 

As they all left the restaurant, Darcy beamed at Joe. “Goodnight!” she said. She and Brock were the last out the door.

“ _Potrei guardarti tutto il giorno_ ,” Joe said back, winking at Darcy. _“Bella figura!”_

“Now that I believe,” Brock said with a chuckle.

“What did he say?” Darcy asked, as Brock held the door open for her.

“He could spend all day looking at you,” Brock said. “And your beautiful figure.”

“That’s sweet,” Darcy said, looking back through the glass at Joe.

“Yeah, until you find out he’s buried five wives already, Lewis. He’s the Black Widower of Belmont,” Brock said.

“Shut up, that is not true,” Darcy said. “That poor old man is probably lonely.”

“No, it’s true,” Angela called from up the sidewalk. “All his wives died of horrible illnesses. He proposed to me after your father died and your great-aunt wanted a priest to come and bless the house. She thought Joe was cursed.”

“Pity she said no,” Brock whispered sarcastically under his breath and Darcy swatted at him.

“I heard that!” his mother said. “Come get in the car.”

“We’re taking the subway back,” Brock called out. To Darcy, he said, “I’ve had all the quality family time I can take in one evening.”

“The subway is dangerous,” his mother said.

“Gee, I never do anything dangerous,” Brock said.

“What about Darcy?” Fallon asked. Jimmy was already in the car.

“It’s my job to make sure nothing happens to her, Fal,” Brock said. “Literally.”

“Did Tony write that in the memo of your first check?” Darcy asked.

“Yeah,” Brock said.

“He put ‘Care and Feeding of Scientists’ on mine,” she said, smiling.

“When can I meet him? He sounds like fun,” Angela asked her son. “I’ve always wanted to.”

“Isn’t he in _Us Weekly_ getting his own gas a lot?” Fallon asked.

“He’s usually in the Who Wore It Best outfits feature. I’ll introduce you,” Darcy said. “Come and visit me anytime. I’m sure Jack would love to see you, too, Angela.”

“Look at how nice she is,” Angela said to Brock. “I bet her mother is proud. Honey, you should come out to New Haven sometime. Have you had New Haven-style pizza?”

“Nope,” Darcy said, “but I loved the food tonight. Is it good?”

“Oh, you’ll love it. Bring her down one weekend,” Angela told her son. “You could use the fresh air. You look tired. Doesn’t he look tired?”

“New Haven pizza is dry and terrible,” Brock muttered.

“You just say that because Paul loves the white clam pizza,” Fallon said. “He hates our stepdad,” she told Darcy.

“I do not hate Paul. This has nothing to do with Paul. It has clams and no mozzarella,” he argued back. “How is that even pizza?”

“You know what? I think he does look tired, Ma,” Fallon said. “I wasn’t sitting across from him, so I didn’t notice all those crows feet he’s got now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carmine's is based on a real restaurant called Dominick's in the Bronx, but since Brock is being grouchy about it, I decided to change the name? Anyhow, a place does still exist where there are no menus, you have to pay cash, and everybody sits together? I thought it sounded cool.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yesterday's cheesecake or Italian cream cake?
> 
> (ch. update 2 of 2 for 7/26)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos.

“Lewis,” Brock said calmly as they walked away, “if Tony Stark wasn’t paying me an absurd amount above my SHIELD salary to keep you alive, I might be strangling you right now. You invited my mother to my job?” he said.

“I can tell them she’s my mother?” Darcy offered. He looked genuinely put out.

“Once she shows up once, she’ll never leave,” he said. “She’ll bring food and start playing matchmaker with me and various women.”

“Oh, so, she’s like Natasha?” Darcy asked.

“Imagine if you could give Romanoff grandchildren, Lewis. What did I ever do to you?” he asked.

“Where are we going? Are you going to murder me in an alley now?” Darcy asked.

“Possibly,” he said. “But let’s check on the status of our project before I get blood on my clothes,” he said. He led her across a street. On the corner, there was a restaurant: Carlo’s. “I’m gonna see if they’re still there,” he said and peered through the glass window.

“Are they?” Darcy asked.

“Yeah. Back table on the left,” he said, moving aside so she could look. “They look happy to you?” he asked.

“Extremely,” Darcy said. Jane was practically glowing. They stood there for a minute until Darcy started to feel weird. “We should go. I feel like I’m spying on them,” she said. “It feels pervy.”

“This bugs you, but the AI doesn’t?” he said skeptically.

“That was at work, this is a date,” Darcy said. “It does look like a nice restaurant, though.”

“That’s your pleasantly quiet meal that Jane took, Lewis,” he groused. “And you invited my mother to visit you. This is going on the list,” he said.

“The list?” Darcy’s eyebrows went up.

“Of ways you’re completely insane,” he said. “C’mon, Mr. Cannoli of Arthur Avenue owes me a favor. Let’s see if he’s still in the shop now and if there’s any pistachio cannoli left. I’m calling a Stark car, too. You look too tired for the subway.”

“I’ll be fine, really,” Darcy said. “I don’t mind the walk.” Her feet did hurt, but she didn’t want him to know. He’d tease her about being soft.

“No,” he said flatly, shaking his head. She realized he looked tired, too. His sister hadn’t been lying.

“Then again, I’m not forty-two,” Darcy said teasingly. “You didn’t get a lot of sleep on my Stuart the Minion pillow, did you?”

“I could just leave you here,” Brock said.

“But would you take the cannoli, old man?” she asked, quoting _The_ _Godfather_ part of _You’ve Got Mail._

“Make one more crack about my age, Lewis,” Brock threatened. As they walked further on to the cannoli shop, he said suddenly, “You named the Minion pillow, too?”

“No, he came with a name,” Darcy said. “He had a name in the movie. There was Stuart, Bob, and, uh, Kevin? Plus, a bunch of unnamed Minions. I wonder if they’ll ever do a contest to name them? Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Fun?” he said.

“Imagine if we got them to name one Brock? You’d have all this merchandise with your name,” she said.

“Jesus,” Brock muttered.

“Didn’t you hate that when you were a kid? Nothing ever said Darcy,” she told him. “It always made me sad.”

 

***

“This might sound crazy,” Jack said, looking at the beautiful woman across from him, “but would you like to go the beach with me sometime?”

“I’d love that,” Jane said. “What beach?”

“I’ve got to figure that out, love,” he admitted, laughing. “I don’t know any of the local beaches.”

“I bet there’s a good aquarium, too,” Jane said, thinking of his marine sciences degree. They could do ocean things together.

“You want dessert?” Jack asked her. “Or no? Brock said they make a good Italian cream cake?”

Jane smiled and repressed the urge to say she wanted him for dessert. It was a very Darcy-ish thought. She’d been having a lot of those with Jack around.

“Yes,” she said. “I’d love that.” She held his gaze for a long time and he swallowed, feeling a jolt of arousal. Jane Foster was a very sexy woman, he was discovering.

 

They were kissing on the sidewalk outside the restaurant when Jack paused to lick his lips.

“You taste like cake,” he said in a warm voice.

“That was the idea,” Jane said. “Next time, we should get it to go.”

“Third date?” he said carefully, brushing the hair away from her face.

“Definitely,” Jane said. “I’ve never had cake in bed.” Jack was torn between utter happiness and bafflement at his own luck. He was the luckiest damn man in the world.

 

***

 

Mr. Cannoli—his name was Dave and he’d gone to high school with Brock—was actually out of pistachio cannoli. “How do you run out of pistachio?” Brock grumbled. Dave was there baking. It smelled delicious, but nothing was finished except stuff Brock had decided he didn’t want. He’d turned down chocolate cannoli, some wonderful-looking cheesecake squares, and Grand Marnier cream puffs. Darcy suspected that Brock was pouting. She wanted a Grand Marnier cream puff, dammit.

“He had dinner with his mother tonight,” Darcy explained. “But I’ll take a cream puff.”

“At Carlo’s?” Dave asked. He slid a few things to Darcy. She smiled at him.

“Carmine's,” Brock said.

“You can’t stand Carmine's,” David said. “You think it’s too noisy.”

“It is too noisy,” Brock said. Dave looked over at Darcy when she moaned in delight at the cream puff.

“This is incredible. Marry me, Dave,” she said, when she realized both men were looking at her.

“He’s got a wife and she’ll kill you,” Brock said. “Stop making orgasm noises, Lewis, you’re not in a Nora Ephron movie.”

“But it’s so good,” Darcy said. “Do you have any brothers?” she asked Dave.

“I’ve got biscotti?” Dave offered. “You want some Vin Santo, too?”

“Fine,” Brock said. They sat and watched Dave work. It was interesting. He explained things to Darcy while Brock taught her to dip her biscotti into the dessert wine. She ended up a little tipsy and Dave—over her repeated marriage proposals—plied her with cheesecake squares.

“I think I love Dave,” Darcy said as they climbed into the Stark car. Brock leaned back from giving the driver directions.

“You realize he gave you the day olds, right?” Brock said. “That was yesterday’s cheesecake.”

“Whatever, my dude. You won’t tear us apart with your cynicism. Our love is strong,” Darcy said.

“I’ll make sure to tell his wife that,” Brock said dryly. He shut the partition between them and the driver.

“Imagine being married to a baker,” Darcy said. “I bet he smells like vanilla, the way baristas smell like coffee when they leave work.” She leaned her head back against the seat and sighed.

“It’s been a while since you’ve had sex, hasn’t it?” Brock asked, laughing.

“Shut up,” she said. “I have recently..ish?”

“How long?” he asked.

“That is private information,” she said. “Anyway, what about me makes you think that? Besides my love for Dave? Is this about that old man in the restaurant? I wasn’t _really_ flirting with him. It was just to brighten his day. I was not going to have sex with a ninety year old man,” Darcy said.

“Sure, Lewis,” he said in a teasing, playful voice.

“Elderly people love attention. They get lonely because their kids move away and never call them,” she insisted.

“Uh-huh,” he said.

“I bet you never call your mother,” she said.

“I call her every Wednesday and text her almost everyday, just so she’ll know I’m not dead,” he said. “I’m not that bad a son.” He sounded slightly insulted.

Darcy watched him look out the window as they stopped in traffic. “Why is he taking us all the way down FDR to get to the Tower?” Brock asked.

“Maybe he thinks the view at night is nice?” Darcy suggested. The FDR ran along the edge of the East River. She liked it.

“Across six rows of traffic?” Brock asked her.

“It must have been great to grow up here,” Darcy said. “The lights across the river do look pretty at night.” They seemed to float in the dark.

“That’s Queens, Lewis. We just passed Riker’s Island a little while ago,” he said, laughing. “That island is Roosevelt Island, which is where they used to put the sick people and the lunatics. Real pretty.”

“Were you in love with Sharon Carter?” she asked, prompted by a tipsy impulse to snark back. “You seemed bugged out by Steve?”

“What? Isn’t that kind of a personal question?” he asked.

“Says the guy who just asked me when I’d had sex last?” she said incredulously.

“Sex can be all kinds of things,” he said. “Impersonal, boring, stupid, but love? Love is always personal. Asking about sex isn’t the same as asking about feelings.”

“It is for me,” she said quietly. He didn’t respond.

“No, I wasn’t in love with Sharon,” he said after a minute of silence. “But I would have liked it if she’d taken a little longer to get over me when she thought I was dead. She knew I wasn’t HYDRA, so it wasn’t that. And, goddammit, I’m okay with Rogers. It’s fine.”

“She’s all wrong for you, anyway,” Darcy said, with the certainty that comes from too much dessert wine. “She and Steve are a much better match, personality-wise. Really.”

“You think so?” he asked wryly.

“Yes,” Darcy said. “You were probably attracted to her reserve and coolness, right?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said. “What’s wrong with that?” he asked.

“Nothing, but I think you would eventually start to wonder if she was holding things back from you,” Darcy said. “You know that occurred to you already.”

“Because I’m a stereotypically emotive Italian-American?” he said. “And she’s an icy WASP? Life is not _The Godfather_ , Lewis.” He was trying to make her feel guilty, but the effect was ruined by his wide grin.

“Oh my God, you have! She is a total Kay. Can you really imagine Sharon spending time with your mom or Fallon?” she asked. “There would be so much conflict over your kids.”

“We have imaginary kids, too?” Brock asked. “I think you want kids, Lewis.”

“Nope,” she said, sighing, “I’ll probably never get married. I’m going to have to settle for living through Jane and her beautiful genius offspring.” She shook her head. “If life is _The Godfather,_ I’m totally the chubby bridesmaid that Sonny Corleone has the affair of doom with. I bet she never got married or had kids, either.”

“Why not?” Brock said, frowning.

“One, no one’s ever asked me,” she said, counting on her fingers. “That’s sort of crucial to the whole getting married deal, in case you didn’t know. Two, Ian said I was incapable of real commitment. Also, three, apparently, I’m too irresponsible and flaky to be a good mom?” she said. 

Brock stared at her. “This is the English guy?” he asked. ”Ian?”

“He also said I was too loud and embarrassing. He would _love_ Sharon. She has that cool Hitchcock blonde thing, you know? English dudes love that,” Darcy said. 

“Lewis, that’s bullshit,” Brock said.

“Is not, it’s totally a thing. English people are horrified if you, like, spill things. I was there, spilling the things on my shirt,” Darcy said.

“No, I mean, you’d probably be a great mom. You’re very maternal,” he said.

“What? You think I’m maternal? Me?” Darcy said incredulously.

“You take care of Foster, Banner, and Stark, don’t you? Jack said you saved puppies during an alien invasion,” he said.

“I did do that,” Darcy said. “But those were puppies?”

“Look, worrying about puppies during a crisis and whether or not Banner has enough of his favorite green tea and Foster has clean clothes is a very mom thing,” he told her. “You’re not that flaky.”

“I’m not?” she asked.

“No,” he said firmly.

“How would you even know?” Darcy challenged. Being flaky had been part of her self-image for awhile. She was perversely proud of it at this point. She was Darcy the Flake. It let her be calm about Tony's lab explosions and aliens and whatnot if she imagined that no one expected much of her anyway. People _expected_ things if you were a parent. Or a non-flake. You couldn't just go around with coffee on your shirt and mismatched socks if there were expectations involved.

“You think Phil didn’t pass us you and Foster’s SHIELD information?” he said. “You graduated magna cum laude, you’re slowly paying off your student loans, and you don’t have a drug problem or a history of criminal activity.”

“I made Thor a fake ID once?” Darcy said.

“I think that probably counts as crafting,” he said dryly. “Very mom. I would let you watch my kids.”

“Sharon probably wouldn’t let you leave them with me,” Darcy told him.

“They’re imaginary. We can always invent more if you actually lost one,” he said. “C’mon, we’re home,” he said. The car was pulling into the parking garage at Avengers Tower. He got out of the car when it stopped and held the door open for her. “Lewis,” he said suddenly, chuckling. “I forgot Andy Garcia.”

“Yeah?” she asked, confused. “Forgot what?”

“The bridesmaid from _The Godfather_ was Andy Garcia’s mother in _Godfather III_ ,” he said. “She did have a kid. With Sonny.”

“Great,” Darcy said sarcastically. “I’m the mother of the guy who had a thing for his cousin. Fabulous.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What *do* pastry & dessert bakers like Dave smell like when they come home at night? Pastry? Vanilla? Amaretti cookies?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Haven I: Trinity Church, pizza, and Amy.
> 
> (TW: brief mentions of domestic violence/parental abuse happening to an original character in the past)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for your comments and kudos!

The next morning, Jack found Brock blending something green and clumpy in the mixer. “Back on the gym and green smoothie wagon, yeah?” Jack asked, as Brock poured it out. He cringed slightly when something round and unblended gurgled out of the blender. It looked like part of an olive, but you never knew with Brock’s recipes. Jack tried to avoid Brock’s weird health food concoctions. They were like drinking liquid spinach. Cold.

“I ate my weight in veal marsala and biscotti last night,” Brock grumbled. “And Lewis and I killed a bottle of dessert wine at Dave’s. I’m hungover and up two pounds.”

“Mate, maybe you ought to think about letting yourself go a bit? Slack off to ten percent body fat or something?” Jack suggested gently. Brock maintained a ridiculously difficult body fat percentage, somewhere around eight or nine percent, like a bodybuilder or a professional trainer. Jack wasn’t sure why Brock even bothered. The last time Jack had gone along with Brock and had himself measured in a displacement tank on a lark, he’d clocked in at a heartier sixteen percent body fat. Everyone seemed to think Jack was plenty fit enough for SHIELD and he didn’t have to drink spinach sludge.

“Right, because I can keep up with kids half my age in the field by going easier on myself?” Brock said. “If I want to go back, I need to be in perfect shape to compete.”

“You’re happier when you eat,” Jack said mildly.

“My father died of a heart attack at fifty-one,” Brock said. They’d had this conversation before.

“Didn’t your mum say your old man smoked two packs a day and drank a fair bit?” Jack said. “How is my darling Miss Angela?”

“Stop trying to fuck with me about my food and go make eyes at Foster,” Brock grumbled. “My mother still adores you, as you very well fucking know. She spent all of last night telling Lewis that she shouldn’t have missed out on the Aussie express while you got my Carlo’s reservation, you asshole.”

“About that,” Jack said, leaning on the counter. He sighed.

“What?” Brock said tersely.

“Nevermind,” Jack said, seeing Brock’s face. It wasn’t the right time. He didn’t want to hurt Brock’s feelings.

“Out with it,” Brock said. “I hate when you pretend you’re trying to spare my feelings when you’re just being chickenshit. What? Did Sharon get engaged to Cap or something? It won’t hurt me.”

“It’s Darce,” Jack said gently.

“What about her? Did my mother say something offensive last night?” he asked, sighing. “It was the boob thing, wasn’t it?

“No,” Jack said, shaking his head. He gave a flash of a smile. He could imagine what Angela had said to Darcy. “It’s something I want to ask you. You know how much I like Jane, yeah?”

“Sure,” Brock said, swallowing a glug of his green juice. “You’re crazy about her.”

“Well, Darce is her best friend,” Jack said. “So, it would be nice if…” he trailed off, unsure.

“Uh-huh?” Brock said. “Look, if you’re trying to set us up, it’s a no go. We’re just friends. I’m not gonna double date with you and Foster.”

“Really?” Jack said. He could’ve sworn he’d seen something soft and warm in Brock’s expression when he looked at Darcy.

“No,” Brock said.

“Mate, I’m kinda glad,” Jack said, sagging a little with relief. “I know you want to go back into the field, so when I saw you and Darce flirting yesterday, well, I was worried. I feel like I have a real shot  at something serious with Jane and I wouldn’t want to jeopardize that.”

“I wasn’t flirting with Lewis,” Brock said, sounding slightly offended. “There’s nothing going on. You’re worse than my mother, Rollins.”

“I should have known,” Jack said. “I mean, she’s not your type at all, is she?”

“Not my type?” Brock said, sipping his green juice.

“She’s practically an honorary Aussie girl,” Jack said, grinning, “you know, fun, casual, likes her jokes, her drinks, and her food too well for you. Not like the girls you usually go for, mate.”

“Girls I go for?” Brock said. “What’s that mean?”

“Well, no offense, but you like women who are, uh,” Jack paused, “well, more like Pepper Potts? That art gallery owner, Sharon Carter, the Croatian former model, they’re all one of a piece, aren’t they? Posh types. Fancy career women. Lewis doesn’t fit in that group.”

“The only thing all of those women had in common was being taller and thinner than Lewis,” Brock said in a deadly quiet voice. He put down his drink. “Are you implying that I’m too shallow to date someone who isn’t a size zero in Gucci? Or are you saying there’s something wrong with Lewis? Because that might really piss me off, Jack,” Brock said. “She’s a friend.”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Jack said, putting his hands up in a gesture of surrender, “she’s a great girl, just that she’s not your sort, is she? It’d never work out. You like to present a certain image, mate. You’re a no pain, no gain guy.  It’s just like with that stuff,” he said, gesturing to the green sludge. “Darce wouldn’t touch that with a ten-foot pole, would she?”

“Well, don’t worry,” Brock said. “I’m not going to ruin your picture-perfect romance with Foster by chasing her assistant around the lab or trying to force Lewis to drink green juice. You can go on into work now, I need to finish this,” he said.

 

When Jack left, Brock looked down at his green juice. “Asshole,” he muttered. On his way into the lab, he ran into Darcy, carrying coffees and teas.

“Hey-o,” she said, beaming. “Jack taught me Aussie o-words. Does he ever call you Brocko?”

“Not if he wants to live,” Brock said, helping her carry her drinks tray.

“How hungover are you? That dessert wine kicked my ass,” Darce said. “I got you a plain espresso. It’s that one.”

“Thanks. It’s the sugar,” he explained, taking the cup. “In the dessert wine. It makes the hangover worse.”

“Ughhhh, my only hate sprung from my only love,” she joked. “Or whatever Juliet said.”

“Something like that,” Brock said, smiling. His phone chimed. “This is my mother, I gotta take it,” he said to her, pausing outside the lab door as she went in. Jack and Jane and Bruce were staring at readouts. Bruce was rubbing his hair, Jane was scrunching her forehead, and Jack looked faintly homicidal, if you didn’t know that was just his confused face.

“Hey, Ma, what’s up?” Brock said. “This weekend? I dunno, I’d have to ask her,” he said. “Maybe she doesn’t want to? I’m sure Jack will. Yeah, yeah, I’ll ask now.” He leaned inside the doorway and looked at Darcy, sitting at her desk. “Lewis, my mother wants you to come down to New Haven this weekend? Jack, you and Foster, too.” He leaned down and wrote something on a Post-It in front of Darcy: _You can say no. I’ll cover for you._

“I’d love to see your mom,” Darcy told him brightly, loud of enough for his mother to hear. There was a flurry of talking on the other end of his phone.

“She’s very happy,” he told Darcy dryly. “Jack?” he asked, looking over. Jack looked at Jane.

“We’d love to,” Jane said, “I have a friend at Yale I’d like to see, too.”

“We’re on, mate,” Jack said.

“She says she’ll buy your favorite beer,” Brock said. “Wants to know if Jane wants anything special?”

“His mother loves Jack,” Darcy explained to Jane and Bruce. “Also, she’s seen you in _People_ , Janey _.”_

 

***

 

They were wandering around New Haven Green--a vast green square downtown--in the sunshine that Saturday when Brock’s sister spoke. “I just realized who it is Darcy reminds me of. She looks like Amy Corcoran! Doesn’t she?” Fallon said suddenly.

“What?” Brock said.

“Your old babysitter. Do you remember her?” she asked Brock. “He had the biggest crush on her. He was so crazy about her, Ma thought he would get arrested one day,” Fallon said as Jack and Jane spread out a blanket on the grass. “She lived down the street. When he was eleven, dad catches him peeking in her windows,” Fallon said, laughing. Darcy plopped down on one corner of the blanket, scanning the crowd for Angela and Paul and Jim. They’d run into someone Paul knew and stopped to talk.

“You don’t even remember that, you were just a baby,” Brock said defensively, as Fallon sat, too. “It wasn’t like that,” he said.

 “How old was she then? I always thought she was like thirty, but Ma said she wasn’t?” Fallon asked.

“She was fifteen,” Brock said. “She was only four years older than me. She was mostly your babysitter, actually. I wasn’t looking in her windows, I’d just gone over to see her.” He looked down at his sister sternly from behind a pair of aviator sunglasses.

“I believe you, mate,” Jack said kindly.

“Yeah, right,” Fallon said. “When he was eighteen and she was still living at home, he gets drunk on dad’s whiskey and goes over to their yard and starts yelling her name and how he’ll love her forever. Dad had to drag him back after her crazy father threatened him with a shotgun,” Fallon said. “I actually remember that one. I was eight. Didn’t Ma think you were going to become a pervert or a sex offender?” Fallon asked. “She yelled at you so much.”

“Probably,” he said neutrally.

“Did she really look like me?” Darcy asked Brock, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand as she looked up at him. “Or is Fallon making that up to mess with you?” she asked. Darcy couldn’t see his full expression because of the sunglasses, but Darcy thought he looked at her face for a long time.

“Maybe,” he admitted finally. “It never really registered with me until now. Your coloring’s totally different.” Darcy thought he looked a little weird, almost like he was clenching his jaw.

“Because you were probably only looking at Amy’s boobs, you perv,” Fallon said. “She had great boobs, too.”

“So, she’s only forty-something now?” Darcy asked. “Does she still live in the Bronx? I want to see what I’ll look like at that age.” She was trying for levity, but it fell flat.

“No,” Brock said. “She died in a car accident when I was nineteen.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t know that,” Fallon said, looking shocked. “I thought they just moved.”

“Yeah, you were only nine, Fal, nobody wanted to scare the kids,” Brock said and abruptly walked away.

“Well,” Jack said, “Looks like you dropped a clanger with that one, Fal.”

“Shut up, Crocodile Dundee,” Fallon said back. “I really didn’t know.”

Darcy watched Brock walk away from them and wondered what the hell that was about.

 

Angela came over to them a few minutes later. “We were just talking about how much Darcy looks like Amy Corcoran. She does, doesn’t she?” Fallon asked. “Or is it just my imagination?”

Angela stuck her finger under Darcy’s chin and tilted her jaw upwards without saying anything. She looked suddenly serious. “I’ll be damned,” she muttered. “She does.”

“She actually died in a car accident? I thought they just left the neighborhood,” Fallon said to her mother.

“Oh, we didn’t want to tell you, honey,” Angela said. “You were only in 3rd or 4th grade. We thought you would be terrified. Brock thinks it wasn't an accident. Your brother swore up and down that her crazy father did something to her boyfriend’s car. He hates when we talk about it, too.”

“Oh my God,” Jane said, as Jack made a horrified sound.

“Amy's father was a real piece of work. I was so afraid he would hurt Brock, even when he was a little boy. I screamed at him not to go over there, but Brock kept sneaking over to see her when she wasn’t babysitting. For years, this went on. We could never talk sense into him,” she said. “Brock adored Amy, he wouldn’t stop writing to her even after he enlisted in the Navy. They had to pass letters through Connie and Dave Mazza.”

“Mr. Cannoli Dave?” Darcy asked.

“Uh-huh. Dave’s sister Connie was Amy’s best friend. Amy’s father was the craziest man I ever met. He didn’t want her working a real job, would hardly let her out of the house. He was paranoid she’d run off with someone and he’d have nobody to cook and clean for him,” Angela said. “Amy’s mother died when she was a teenager. Cancer. She was stuck there with him after that. He would only let her babysit for a little spending money, no social life, nothing. Then Connie got her a job working nights at the bakery after they graduated high school. She had to stay in the back and work nights. Her father didn’t want her to work the counter where she could meet people.”

“How’d she meet the boyfriend?” Fallon asked.

“Dave and Connie’s mom, Toni, introduced them. The boyfriend was a little older, nice quiet man. Good for Amy. She was afraid of her own shadow unless she knew people well. So sweet and funny once she got comfortable enough to open up. Loved kids. Poor girl, she always wanted to get out of that house and she never did,” Angela told Fallon.

“What did Brock do?” Jack asked. “When he found out?”

“Oh, he wanted to kill Amy’s father. The next time he came home he went over there and tried to get the old man to fight him. I was so afraid, I sent my husband to go get people to break up the fight,” she said.

“What happened?” Darcy asked.

“Corcoran wouldn’t fight with him, just stood there while Brock screamed at him in the yard about if he’d killed her. A week later he put the house up for sale, moved out of the neighborhood. Brock said that’s when he knew for sure that the old man had done it,” Angela said. “Any other time, he would have threatened Brock back or waved a gun around, but he didn’t want the cops to come, start asking questions.”

“What kind of accident was it?” Fallon asked.

“Speeding. Your father figured he tampered with the accelerator somehow. He’d seen Amy’s father working on the car a few days before, right after they told him they were getting married. We thought he was taking it well, offering to help out the boyfriend, maybe they’d turned a corner,” Angela said. “He was probably hoping it would kill the boyfriend, not Amy. He didn’t know she could drive. He hadn’t taught her how. Didn’t even want her to get a license.”

“Bloody hell,” Jack said. “He’s never mentioned this to me.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. For years, he couldn’t even stand to be in the room when someone mentioned her name. That’s probably why you never realized,” Angela said to Fallon.

“Shit,” Darcy said. “I’ve probably hurt his feelings.” She felt awful.

“It’s okay, sweetie. You didn’t know,” Angela said, patting her arm. “It’s your smile and your cheekbones that really look like her.”

Brock eventually returned ten minutes later and sat next Fallon, Jim, his mother, and Paul without saying anything. Everyone was being carefully polite. Jane and Jack got up to take photos of the historic buildings and churches along the square for Jane’s parents. “Darce, are you coming?” Jane asked. Darcy liked to make fun of weird stuff and sometimes touristy stuff, so she’d asked quietly about tagging along.

“Sure,” Darcy said, getting up slowly from the ground. “Ughhhhh, being almost thirty sucks.”

“Beats the alternative,” Paul said cheerfully. Only Darcy seemed to notice Brock’s flinch. After Darcy, Jane, and Jack were about ten feet away, he got up and strolled after them.

“I’ll be back,” he called to his mother.

“Fuck,” Fallon said. “He’s mad at me, isn’t he? He’s never this quiet. He hasn’t complained about anything in fifteen minutes.”

***

 

They went to Trinity Church on the Green first. “It’s number one. I sent Dad an email asking about things I could take photos of today,” Jane said to them. “He sent me a whole list! Five pages. Can you believe that?”

“This place is supposed to be interesting,” Jack said. “I googled in the car, love.”

“Awww,” Darcy said. “You guys are adorable. He googled for your dad. You’re both the world’s best-looking, sappiest dorks.”

“Shut up,” Jane said happily and Jack beamed at Darcy.

“I dunno about me, Darce, but she’s the world’s best-looking astrophysicist,” Jack said, ducking his head shyly.

“Ughhhh, sex is making you impossibly cute! I can’t handle it. I’m going inside,” Darcy said. According to Jane, she and Jack were at it like rabbits. Darcy was happy for her, but also a little jelly. Where was her gorgeous, devoted Australian?

“Don’t let a bishop hear you say that,” Jane said. After Darcy had gone inside, Jane reached out and grabbed Jack’s hand. “Let’s go photograph the outside of this place for Dad and then find somewhere to make out.”

“Hmm. I could give it a go,” Jack said playfully. “Plenty of trees and grass.”

 

Jack and Jane were photographing Trinity Church on the Green’s exterior, so Darcy wandered inside and sat in one of the pews. The stained glass was beautiful.

“You should take a picture with your phone,” a passing older woman said to her. She must have seen Darcy’s awestruck expression.

“It’ll never look as good as it does in person,” Darcy said. She couldn’t imagine her camera being able to capture of the feeling of sitting right in the middle of it all: the Gothic arches and carved wood everywhere, the way the biggest stained glass window sparkled in shades of teal and blue-violet, how the stone arches nearest the altar seemed light and delicate, rather than heavy. There were footsteps next to her and Brock sat down in the pew. “Hey,” Darcy said, watching him as he took off his sunglasses and hung them off his t-shirt collar.

He nodded at her without speaking, so she turned back and looked at the stained glass again. They sat there for minutes in silence. Someone started playing the organ. Darcy vaguely recognized it from movies. A passing man in a clerical collar saw Darcy looking up and smiled.

“Have you heard the organ before?” he asked.

“No, I’ve never even been to New Haven before. This is my first trip,” she said. “This place is stunning.”

“That’s Bach. Toccata and Fugue in D minor,” the priest said, gesturing at the pipes. “Very famous organ piece,” he said.

“I thought I recognized it,” Darcy said. She told him that her friends were photographing the outside. “My friend’s mom was a professor of architecture, so we had to see Trinity while we were here.”

“Certainly. We’re the most noteworthy Gothic church in New England,” the priest said.

“According to who?” Brock asked dryly, finally looking like himself again.

“Ourselves, of course. The Yale music students actually do recitals on our organ for their degrees sometimes,” he said. “But probably my favorite thing is seeing the stained glass at dawn. If you can, come see it in person while you’re in town. We also put a video up on Youtube.” He was smiling again.

“I’m only here for the weekend. I’ll have to look for that Youtube,” Darcy said. When the man walked away, she looked at Brock. “You realize you just razzed a clergyman, right?”

“He was flirting with you, Lewis,” Brock said casually.

“He’s a priest!” Darcy whisper-hissed. “How can a priest flirt?”

“Apparently, by working the word organ into conversations with beautiful women as many times as possible,” Brock said teasingly. “And inviting you to see stained glass at dawn.”

“He did not,” Darcy said.

“He’s Episcopalian. They get married. You could probably get married here, if you decide to hang around and listen to more of this haunted house music,” he said, grinning.

“Oh em gee, you are so going to hell,” Darcy joked.

“All my old friends from work will be there,” he said in a nonchalant voice. “You ready to go? My stepfather wants to get some of his favorite terrible pizza. My mother has been texting incessantly for the last several minutes.”

“We’ll need to find Jane and Jack,” Darcy said, getting up.

“They’re making out in the damn bushes,” Brock said.

“That lady is staring at you,” Darcy said quietly. An elderly woman was giving him the stink eye. As they walked out of the church, she had to cover her mouth to stop the surge of laughter that bubbled up. “I think I almost got the church giggles in an actual church,” she said.

 

***

“I think we should all go to orchid night together,” Angela said while they were having New Haven-style pizza for dinner. It was different, but good. Darcy actually preferred the romano cheese to a heavy mozzarella. The pizza was crispier.

“Bonzer idea,” Jack said.

“Sounds lovely, hon,” Paul said simultaneously. Brock’s stepfather was a cheerful man with a pleasantly red face from being outside for years. Angela had explained that they originally met in high school and then reconnected several years ago. He’d moved out to Connecticut in his twenties, started a landscaping business, and was basically the lawn king now, Darcy realized. When Angela had suggested Brock work for him, Darcy had imagined it would be a small business. Like a mom and pop with mowers. But it transpired that he did everything from irrigation to tree cutting and snow removal. Paul had never married and had no kids of his own. Which meant Angela was angling for Brock to be the next lawn king of Connecticut or something? Paul was explaining to Jack that there was some problematic new oak pest when Darcy’s brain caught up to the last bit of their conversation.

“Landscapers do snow removal?” she asked. “That’s news to me.” At Culver it hadn’t snowed all that often and it certainly hadn’t snowed in New Mexico while they were there. Darcy hadn’t thought about snow logistics since Norway.

“It’s good, solid winter work,” Paul told her. “I like to stay busy.”

“He’s a bit of a workaholic,” Angela said. “I’m trying to coax him into doing things for fun now, not profit.”

“I was single for a long time,” he said cheerfully. “Hard habit to break.”

“That doesn’t remind me of anyone at all,” Jack said wryly, putting his arm around Jane. They both looked at Brock. Jack had told all kinds of SHIELD stories on the drive up. Multiple ones involved Brock signing them up for some sort of bonkers field assignment as overtime or Phil forcing him to actually take time off.

“What?” Brock said, sounding genuinely confused. “I missed that,” he said quietly. His mother looked at him for a second and then shifted the conversation back to Fallon and Jim’s baby plans. They were talking about the best time to start nursery shopping.

“When are you meeting your Yale friend?” Darcy asked Jane.

“Tomorrow,” Jane said. They were all staying overnight with Angela and Paul. 

When they left the restaurant and went walking across the Green again to where they'd parked, Brock fell in next to Darcy. “You liked Paul’s terrible pizza,” he said.

“I did,” she told him. They were quiet for a minute. Everyone else was talking loudly up ahead of them. “What was your dad like?” she asked. His mother talked about her first husband openly and often humorously. It made Darcy curious.

“A pain. Loved to argue and debate. He and Ma argued about everything. I think he got a rise out of it, so if she said the sky was blue, he’d say it was green just to make her lose it. He thought she was cute when she was mad. It was a passionate relationship. They were crazy about each other, but they had trouble living together. It wasn't violent or anything, just an endless debate. They actually divorced and remarried each other, did she tell you? Like Liz Taylor and Richard Burton,” he said.

“I could see your mom as Liz Taylor, she has that vibe,” Darcy said. He laughed. 

“She’s much more calm now. Paul doesn’t push her buttons like Dad did,” he said. “When I was young, I hated it. All the sniping and the drama and the noisy makeup sex. Drove me crazy.”

“That’s when you decided not to get married?” Darcy guessed.

“More or less,” he said.

“But?” Darcy asked.

He sighed. “Sometimes, I wonder if she misses it? Paul is a good guy, don’t get me wrong, but it’s different. She’s not as alive as she was with Dad to me. Where’s the fire?” he asked.

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds awfully romantic of you, my dude.” He snorted. "What would Fallon say?" she teased.

“If you tell her I said that, it’ll go on the list, Lewis,” he said.

 

 

***

 

That night, Darcy got up to use the bathroom and was going back to the guest room when Brock said her name. She found him sitting in one of the bedrooms, looking at photo albums. “Hey, you need something?” she asked.

“You wanna see this? Fal’s right, you do look a little like Amy,” he said, pointing to a photo in his album. She sat next to him on the bed. “That’s Fallon in her lap,” he said. A teenage girl in glasses was holding an infant. She had curly, long auburn hair and a wide, full mouth. There was a facial resemblance, Darcy thought, and Amy looked short and curvy, too, even though their coloring was different.

“She’s pretty,” Darcy said. “She’s got that Julia Roberts big hair.”

“It was the eighties, that was the hair to have,” he said, smiling. “She always smelled like Prell shampoo and Love’s Baby Soft when I was a kid. Her dad didn’t want her wearing makeup or perfume, but Connie would sneak her some.”

“So you did have a crush on her when you were eleven?” Darcy asked, as they flipped through the photos. Darcy noticed that Amy was in a lot of them, holding baby Fallon. Occasionally, a young Brock--with a thatch of dark hair and a serious expression--appeared off to the side. He was usually looking at Amy.

“God, no, Fallon makes her sound like Mary Kay LeTourneau or some shit. When I was eleven, I just thought she was the coolest babysitter in the neighborhood,” he said. “She was so much fun. She did impressions of people--famous people, people from the neighborhood, Daffy Duck--and all kinds of jokes. Played with us. Everybody thought she was quiet as a mouse, but if she really knew you, she was a whole other person. Smart and talented. She used to take me and Fallon places. I realized later that baby-sitting was the only time she got to go anywhere, so that was probably why she loved going to the zoo with us. I loved being around her. I wasn’t a Peeping Tom at eleven, by the way,” he said, “Fallon’s got that wrong. I was trying to get Amy to come watch a movie with us and her dad threw a plate at me. She called my dad to come get me. I know she paid for that.”

“Her dad was violent?” Darcy asked.

“Yeah,” Brock said. “Mostly when she was little, he beat her mom, I think. By the time she was older, he was too smart about CPS to do anything that would leave a mark or land her in the hospital. He used to twist her arms or slap her sometimes, but by then he’d worn her down enough that she wouldn’t talk back or defend herself, just go along with whatever insane demand he made. The clothes weren’t nice enough, she needed to iron them again, the food wasn’t good, she needed to make something else.”

“That sounds horrible,” Darcy said.

“It was,” he said. “I tried to sneak over and check on her a lot, just to make sure she was okay, you know, when I was younger? She never had anybody over, except Connie, because he would make a big scene. He didn’t like men at all. Eventually, she told me to stop when I was twelve or thirteen because she was worried I would get hurt. Still, my parents and several other families used to get her to babysit their younger kids, so she could get away from him for a few hours. Everybody knew he was crazy, but he was careful not to hurt her physically.”

“He just terrorized her,” Darcy said, looking at the smiling girl in one photo. Brock touched it with his fingers.

“Yeah, exactly. That was the holiday train show at the Botanical Gardens,” Brock said. “She used to take us when I was small and Fallon was still in a stroller. All by herself, just so she could go somewhere. She had to ask someone to take this photo. She gave all of them to my mother.”

“She looks happy with you two,” Darcy said.

“She loved kids. She and Connie were kinda nerdy. Amy had glasses and they used to tease Connie and call her “Connie Cannoli.” They were the sort of girls who stayed home and studied together on weekends, you know? Amy had all these old-fashioned skills---she could bake and sew and even taught herself how to budget--because her dad refused to let her spend any money on new clothes or a lot on groceries. She would go to the library when she babysat and check out books on how to do stuff or borrow recipes. She was like a child homemaker. She wanted about five kids of her own,” he said. “We talked about that.”

“You talked about kids when you were eleven?” Darcy asked, incredulously.

“No, this was later. We didn’t see each other as much as I got older. But I started hanging around the bakery and staying with Dave when I was seventeen. I sorta moved in with them. My parents were going through another rough patch and I couldn’t stand to be around them arguing. Amy was working for Dave’s parents at the time. She was twenty-one then and the age difference between us didn’t seem that big. She was so sheltered, she’d never had a drink or smoked a cigarette or been on a real date,” he said.

“You’d probably done all that?” Darcy said softly.

“Uh-huh,” he said. “It took awhile for her see me as a guy, though. It helped that I’d been boxing and was finally taller than her.” He chuckled. “Amy was a little round thing, all soft. Barely five feet tall. She worked nights and I used to walk her home. It wasn’t safe to walk alone at four or five in the morning back then. I know her dad did that on purpose, too. He was hoping she’d get too scared to work and quit. He wanted to make everything difficult for her. She could have easily been mugged.”

“God,” Darcy said. “I can’t imagine doing that to your only child.”

“My mother told you about how she died, didn’t she?” Brock asked.

“You think he did something to her boyfriend’s car,” Darcy said.

“I know he did,” Brock said. “He didn’t want her meeting anyone. When we were spending time together, she was so afraid he’d find out. She knew he’d make a big scene out of it, try to say that she’d done something wrong because we’d known each other for years. So, we kept it secret. My mother doesn’t even know. Dave and Connie knew, but that was it. Amy didn’t want anyone to think she was a bad person.”

“So, you did date?” Darcy asked. “Even with the age difference?”

“That’s a sexist double standard, Lewis. Do you know how many twenty-two year old guys in the neighborhood dated their friends’ eighteen year old sisters that they’d known all their lives back then? I could name a dozen couples that are happily married now. Nobody even registers the age difference. But a woman does it and it’s a scandal? Total bullshit. For the first six months or so, we were just friends anyway. But I was completely crazy about her. I wanted to marry her,” Brock said intensely. “I thought we could get married as soon as I enlisted.”

“What happened?” Darcy asked.

“I moved too fast, like a fucking idiot. Talked her into sleeping with me once I turned eighteen,” he said. “I should have waited longer, until we were away from her father or married. She’d never slept with anyone before and he found her birth control pills and threw a fit. Called her a whore. She thought he suspected it was me--he kept asking who the guy was, badgering her--and it made her feel guilty. Like she’d done something wrong. She was so guilty, she broke it off with me. Wouldn’t see me. That’s when I showed up drunk on her lawn, like the dumbass I was and really wrecked it,” he said. “I think she asked Connie and Dave’s parents to set her up with somebody older and more sedate because I fucked it up so badly. I found out once I was doing basic training in Illinois. I kept writing her, even after I found out she was dating someone else, just so she’d know I was still there if she needed me. She wrote me the sweetest letters. I was sort of hoping things would fizzle out with him and I could convince her to marry me, but he must have known a good thing when he saw one. One day, Ma called me to say she was engaged and then a week later to say she was dead.”

“I’m sorry,” Darcy said, rubbing his shoulders gently.

“I’ve always felt responsible. I was the one who taught her how to drive. I’d gotten my license already because I knew I would need one when I enlisted. She and Connie were secretly saving up for a used car to share. It was going to be in Connie’s name. I thought she would be safer if she could drive,” he said. “One of life’s little ironies,” he said in a bitter voice.

“Oh, Brock,” Darcy said, “it’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known.” She hugged him.

“They were trying to convince Dave’s dad to let them do deliveries to restaurants together,” he said in a choked voice. “She thought that would be so much fun. Just her and Connie driving around, listening to the radio, without worrying about Amy’s father. That was her idea of a good time. She asked for so little and still, she got nothing.”

"Yeah," Darcy said. 

"Please don't mention this to anyone," he said. "I don't want a big fuss."

"I won't," she told him.

Before she went back to bed, Brock looked at her and said sadly, “I used to spend a lot of time imagining what it would be like to be married to a baker, Lewis. She smelled like cinnamon and cannoli batter when she left work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trinity is stunningly beautiful and I'm sure the clergy doesn't actually hit on visitors, that's just Brock teasing Darcy: http://trinitynewhaven.org/see-and-hear-trinity/
> 
> Here is a panorama of the inside: http://seththompson.info/sacredspacesne/wp-content/uploads/panoramas/trinity_episcopal_new_haven_ct/


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brock Rumlow is totally that person who gives advice that they don't follow themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos!

“Stop that, Lewis,” Brock said on Sunday morning. They were having coffee together in downtown New Haven while Jane and Jack went to Yale. His relatives were shopping nearby.

“What?” Darcy asked, confused. “Did I spill something?” She looked down at her chest and lap and flicked away a few muffin crumbs.

“You’re giving me a gooey look,” he said grumpily. “You look like one of Fal’s Precious Moments dolls.”

“Gooey?” she said.

“It’s that same sweet, nurturing look you give Banner when he gets green around the gills. You want to mother me. Stop,” he said. “I didn’t tell you about Amy so you’d decide I needed comforting and you could cuddle me.”

“Cuddle you?” Darcy said skeptically. “I don’t want to cuddle you.”

“Sure you do,” he said. “You’re making big sad eyes at me. That’s one step away from hugs and two steps away from letting me sleep on your ample bosom. Three steps from sex, because you’ve subconsciously decided I need the love of a good woman to be happy again.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Darcy said. “You think I have an overactive imagination? You’re the one talking about flirty priests and my ample bosom. Like a romance novelist.”

“It has happened before. Some very nice women have tried to fix me,” he said. “You decide I just need a little affection, like I’m a plant that needs watering to bloom again, we have some fun, the sex is very good, blah blah blah.” He waved his hand. “When I leave again, your feelings get hurt. I’m not a relationship guy,” he said. “My mother’s right, I’m too much like my father. I’ve been single too long to know how to live with somebody. I’m very up front about it, people just don’t listen when I tell them. Wishful thinking.”

“Well, someone has a high opinion of himself,” Darcy said archly. He grinned.

“What? You think women want to see me again because of my swell personality? Like I’m so wonderful to be around? I’m good in bed, that’s all. It’s the same reason my mother put up with my father’s bullshit for so long. Plus, some HYDRA serum thrown in for extra stamina,” he said.

“Oh my God,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Do you hear yourself?”

“There’s nothing wrong with your instincts, I’m just the wrong person for it,” he said, continuing as if she hadn’t spoken. “We could probably eke out a good six months, maybe a year before I got antsy, which would be a record for me. But you ought to find a Bruce or a Jim, somebody who’d settle down permanently for the privilege of eating pumpkin spice tiramisu off your boobs. There are lots of men who’d give you no trouble, Lewis. You could be pregnant in a year or two, if you picked the right guy soon,” he said. Darcy gaped at him.

“What--wait, hold on. One, that is a totally disturbing and highly specific mental image, okay? I see you, being all pervy. Two, I don’t want to be thinking about that when I look at Bruce in the lab on Monday,” she scolded. “Also, three: baby?!” He shrugged.

“Doesn’t make it any less one of the top ten uses for mascarpone,” he said, grinning. “Take what I’m saying seriously,” he continued. “You’ve got plenty of appealing qualities. Don’t let one uptight English asshole psych you out.”

“You’re saying Ian messed with my head?” Darcy asked.

“Gee, you think?” he said, leaning forward. “You’re talking about settling for being Jane’s nanny. You don’t think you’re good enough to find somebody?”

“It’s not that,” Darcy said. “It’s just...complicated.” He snorted.

“How so?” he asked, sipping his skim-milk latte. “Explain it to me, Lewis.” He looked at her intently.

“I don’t know how. It’s not like something I could plan, is it? You can plan a degree or a job. There are steps: you apply and they let you in or they don’t. If get turned down, you try again or apply somewhere else. You can’t apply for a soulmate,” she said. “It’s something that happens to you, not something you do yourself.”

“So, you’re waiting for Prince Charming, huh?” Brock asked.

“Why do you care? You seem awfully concerned that’ll end up Jane’s nanny for a guy who doesn’t believe in relationships?” Darcy asked.

“Maybe I want you to be happy,” he said. “I can’t believe there isn’t a line of men out the door. Why not try online dating?”

“It seems so manufactured and looks-oriented, like shopping for a person. And I’ve seen people get really callous and jaded when the next person is just a swipe away? It doesn’t feel good to me, you know?” she said.

“Doesn’t feel good?” he said wryly. He grinned. “What does feel good to you?” he teased.

“I meant ethically, goober. You overestimate your sex appeal, you know that?” she said. He laughed.

“It would be a great six months for both of us. I’d never knock your appeal, Lewis,” he said.

 

***

That afternoon, they all went as a group to the carousel at Lighthouse Point Park. Jane’s dad wanted photos of the lighthouse and Jane and Jack wanted to see the ocean together. Darcy was excited about the carousel. She loved carousels. In an encrypted email from Wakanda, Steve had promised to take her to Coney Island one day, once he was back with Bucky. They had a good one, he said. The New Haven carousel was beautiful, though. The horses were painted in gold and a palette of soft colors that reminded Darcy of Neapolitan ice cream. People got married there, Angela told them.

”Oh, Jane and Jack could have a really cute wedding here and I’d get carousel bridesmaid photos,” Darcy whispered to Fallon.

“That would be so freaking adorable,” Fallon said. Brock rolled his eyes.

 

Darcy was busy doing funny faces at the kids on the nearby horses while everyone else wandered around the beach. “Why don’t you ask Darcy out on a date?” Angela asked her son. She’d caught him periodically looking back at the carousel pavilion to make sure Darcy was okay. They could see her laughing through the wide windows. “She’d be a good fit for you.”

“Ma, you know we’re just friends,” Brock said.

“Sure,” she said skeptically. “I see how you look at her sometimes.”

“How’s that?” he asked. “Like she’s the ice cream and I’m the spoon?” he said. It was one of Angela’s favorite expressions for describing how she’d felt the first time she’d seen his father. He’d been the ice cream, according to her. The attraction between them had been instant. She laughed.

“You remember that? I’m so glad you got my love of food instead of those Rumlow genes for smoking and drinking,” she said. “No, you don’t look at her like that.”

“How do I look?” he asked. He was curious.

“Like she’s somebody you want to take care of,” his mother said.

“That’s my job,” he said.

“I just want you to be happy. Look at how happy Jack and Jane are. You could be like that, too.” Jane and Jack were walking at the edge of the water, arm in arm, looking like they were the only two people in the world.

“I thought I was too much like dad to ever be happy,” Brock said wryly.

“Pffht,” his mother said, “that’s an excuse and you know it. Your father and I were very happy.”

“Yes, I remember. You were so happy I moved in with Dave,” he said.

“Don’t try to tell me my business,” Angela said. “We always loved each other.”

“I know that, Ma, but I’m not that kind of guy. I don’t do relationships.”

“You and Amy were very happy,” Angela said significantly.

“You knew about that?” Brock said in a low voice.

“Are you the child of stupid people? Of course we knew. Your father and I had eyes, we saw how you looked at her,” she said. ”You lit up like a lamp whenever she came into a room. Did you think she got birth control out of thin air? Dave’s mother went with her. Toni Mazza lied and said she was Amy’s mother, so she wouldn’t be alone when she talked to the doctor. Amy used to go to Toni for advice. Poor little thing wanted me to know, too. She was worried that I would disapprove. I tried to reassure her, but we couldn’t stop her father from saying all those things to her when he found them.”

“All this time, you knew?” Brock said quietly. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?” he asked.

“You would have been embarrassed. I didn’t want to make you feel like a child,” she said. “You’d been so wild before, so stubborn, but you were getting yourself together for Amy, trying to be steady. I was waiting for you to tell me.”

“And I never did,” he said. “I’m sorry, Ma.”

“Don’t be sorry, for God’s sake, do better. I can tell you that now that you’re as old as I was then,” she said, chuckling.

“I’m actually older,” he admitted. “You’re still younger than am I,” he said, smiling. “Everybody says so. Young and beautiful, Ma.”

“Phfft, quit sweet talking me. You’re wasting all that potential you had eighteen to have a good life with somebody. Giving it all to SHIELD and for what? So, they’ll give you a clock or a watch after thirty years of bleeding yourself dry? Worse, Jack tells me you’re applying for the CIA?” she said.

“I want to go back out into the field,” he said. “If they’ll take me at my age.”

“You found the one place other than SHIELD where they won’t even say your name if you get shot and die. You’ll just be a damn star on a wall,” she said, shaking her head.

“Ma,” he began, but she cut him off.

“It’s your life, you get to do what you want with it,” she said. “It just seems so small to me. The world you live in, it asks so much of you. What do you get?”

“I’m happy there, it makes me feel useful,” he said gently. “I’m good at it. I’m too old to be good at anything else.”

“You could be good at a lot of things,” she said stubbornly. “I’d like to have a son around when I’m really old.”

“Well, Ma,” he said wryly, “maybe you can convince Jack to go into the landscaping business. Paul can adopt him. He’s getting out of the field.”

“For Jane?” Angela asked.

“He’d already decided before they started dating, but I think he has hopes,” Brock said quietly. “He’s the perfect son for you.”

“You idiot, you don’t think I know which one of you is my son?” Angela grumbled.

***

Down at the shoreline, Jane was telling Jack about how she’d made Christmas decorations out of shells with her grandmother when she was younger. “We used to make little reindeer faces out of oysters.”

“Reindeer oysters?” he said.

“They were so ugly,” Jane said, laughing. “She was from a part of Maryland where they had oysters at the holidays instead of turkey, so we’d paint faces on the outsides and then glue glitter pipe cleaners on them for antlers. She’d been doing it since my mom was little. I think my parents still have some of them.”

“They’re down in your brother’s basement?” Jack teased.

“Yup,” Jane said. “He insisted that his had to have googly eyes. He threw a fit one year when we ran out and then made all his reindeer one-eyed, so he wouldn’t have painted eyes on any of them. Eventually, he graduated to making themed reindeer, but my grandma refused to put Murder Rudolph on the front of the tree. She thought it would scare the baby cousins.”

“Murder Rudolph?” Jack asked.

“Uh-huh. He had jagged teeth and murder horns made to look like knives out of aluminium foil,” Jane said. “There was also Pirate Rudolph. He stole one of my hoop earrings for that.”

“I think your brother sounds fun, love,” Jack told her. “Can I meet them?”

“He’s the best, you’ll like each other,” Jane said. She had already decided to introduce Jack to her family whenever he asked.

 

***

Darcy was joking with one of the moms at the carousel when she spotted a five year old starting to fall off his horse. She leaned across to catch him by his shirt. For a second, he tilted dangerously to the side, but she managed to slide off her own horse without letting go of him and then got him back on. “Hey, I gotcha! You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said shyly. One of his shoelaces was untied. She knelt down to tie it for him.

“I don’t want you trippin, pal,” she told him.

“Lewis, you okay?” Rumlow’s voice was so close and so unexpected that Darcy jumped and whacked her forehead against the wooden horse with a thud.

“Ow. Well, I was okay, until you scared the shit out--” she stopped and looked up at the little boy. “You didn’t hear that, did you?” she asked him.

“Nope,” he said. He shook his head, but giggled.

“You see the trouble you get me in, sneaking up on me like that?” Darcy asked Brock. “I’m buying bells for your shoes.”

“C’mon, I’ll get you some ice,” he said. “Looks like you’ve got a goose egg.”

“Great,” Darcy said sarcastically. “Bye, pal!” she said, waving to the little boy. He waved back. “I wonder where his parents went?” Darcy asked.

“Probably looking at their phones,” Brock said.

“It’s a good thing for you that cynicism isn’t fatal,” Darcy said.

“Go sit down while I find ice, goober,” he told her. “Try not to hurt yourself. The ice will probably cost me $5, I can’t afford anymore injuries.”

“Stop paying for things then,” she told him. “I have a perfectly fine salary. I can pay for my own things.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, leaving her sitting in the sand, listening to music on her phone. When he came back with a bag of ice in a cooler several minutes later, he wrapped a few pieces in a t-shirt and handed them to her. “Hold that on your forehead,” he said. She tried not to be weirded out by how much the t-shirt smelled like him when she held it against her face. The intimate feeling wasn’t decreased when he sat close to her, so she could lean back against him.

“You don’t have to stay with me,” she said. “I feel like a spectacle.” She put her hair up to keep it out of the ice.

“No one’s paying attention,” he said. “That’ll probably bruise, though.” He rubbed her shoulders. “You’re tense, Lewis,” he said.

“I get knots near my right shoulder blade,” she said. “I hold all my stress in my shoulders and neck.” She refrained from mentioning that some of her neck and back issues were probably boob-related.

“You should have a physical therapist look at that,” he said, “or a massage therapist. It’s not good for your shoulders long-term. Here?” he asked, finding the spot she was talking about and pressing it.

“Uh-huh,” she said.

“Jesus, I can feel that. It’s an actual knot. Do you mind if I work on that?” he asked, massaging.

“No,” she said, trying to keep her voice neutral, “I can’t reach it by myself.” His touch felt freaking fantastic. When he applied more pressure under her shoulder blade, she had to force herself not to moan. It felt that good.

“You probably need a foam roller,” he said conversationally, digging his thumbs into her skin.

“A what?” she asked. She hoped he couldn’t hear the catch in her voice.

“It’s something gym rats use to work out their knots,” he said, working his hands down her back.

“I thought you meant those little pink old lady hair curlers,” she said. He chuckled.

“Nah, this is more like a rolling pin for your back,” he said. “Works all your lumps out.”

“You’re good at this, you missed your calling,” Darcy told him, reflexively leaning into his touch.

“Don’t let my mother hear you say that. What are you listening to?” he asked.

“Oh, I turned it off when you got back, but it was Johnny Mercer’s “My Sugar is So Refined.” Here, listen,” she said, sticking an earbud in his ear.

“Lewis, you’re listening to Cap’s music,” he said in a teasing voice.

“Like you haven’t heard every Sinatra song ever released?” she asked. She’d picked up that he was a bit of a fan.

“My dad loved Sinatra,” he said. “Played him all the time when Fal and I were growing up. I liked Bon Jovi, actually. But you absorb a lot when you hear something all the time. That’s one of my regrets.”

“Regrets?” she asked.

“When I was a kid, he wanted to take me to see Sinatra in Atlantic City. I thought it was lame. I was a little schmuck. I never wanted to go. I should have gone, you know?” he said. “He would’ve liked that.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “I used to tease my mom about her love of Air Supply and Journey.”

“I think that’s fair,” he said wryly, kneading her shoulder blades. “Don’t put your ice down,” he scolded her.

“Okay, okay, okay,” she said, putting the ice back against her forehead lump.

“Very cute, Joe Pesci,” he said, recognizing her _Lethal Weapon_ impression.

“He’s not wrong. They do always fuck you at the drive-thru,” Darcy said.

“True wisdom, Lewis,” he said.

 

***

On the car ride back into town, a slightly sundazed Darcy fell asleep on Brock’s shoulder in the backseat. She missed Tony’s call to Jane. He was calling to say that Steve, Bucky, and Sharon were coming back to New York. They were going to live in the Tower.

“What did he want, love?” Jack asked.

“He’s got to re-do the apartments, so Steve, Sharon, and Bucky can live together,” she said. “So, he’s going to need to move us around and swap some walls or something? It’s no big deal, Tony loves to remodel.”

“What if we moved in together?” Jack asked her quietly. “Would you consider that?” Jack flicked his eyes up to Brock in the rearview mirror. “Would you mind, mate?” he asked.

“Of course not,” he said. “I’d be happy to move out if you want privacy, too.”

Darcy woke up a few minutes later, when Brock gave her a little shake. “Wake up, Lewis, we’re getting food now,” he said. They were at a restaurant.

“Mmm, okay,” she said, sleepily. Jane was on the phone with Tony. “What’s that about?” she asked Brock.

“She and Jack are moving in together,” he said. “Also, Tony says yes, you can have theme Fridays.”

“Really? Great!” Darcy said, beaming. “I wanted to do Lilo & Stitch or Margaritaville Friday first.”

“I’m not wearing a Hawaiian shirt,” he said grimly.

“Scooby Doo?” she asked hopefully.

“No,” he said.

“Damn,” Jane said, putting her hand over the phone. “There aren’t enough separate apartments with everyone in town right now until the remodel is over,” she said. “There’s a two bedroom and Darcy’s. We’ll have to wait.”

“Why don’t we switch until the renovations are done?” Darcy said.

“Switch?” Jack asked.

“You two can take my one-bedroom and I’ll move into Jack’s room?” she said. “Is that okay with you?” she asked Brock. “Can you tolerate my stuff for a little while? Even my Elvis shrine?”

“Sure,” he said. “Not a problem.”

 

“You’re sure that’s okay?” Darcy asked Brock as they walked into the restaurant after Jack and Jane.

“Lewis, we hang out together at your place all the time. It’s not a big deal. I’d rather live with you than rain on the true love parade up there,” he said, gesturing at a glowing Jack and Jane.

“I hope it turns out okay,” Darcy said. “I don’t want them to fight because my place is too small.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” he said. “There’s my mother.” His relatives had already snagged a table.

“Are they drinking out of coconuts?” she asked, blinking. Her contacts were still blurry from sleep. “With little umbrellas?”

“My mother loves a drink with a little umbrella,” he said dryly.

“She’s so cool,” Darcy said.

“Yeah, she’d be all in for luau Fridays, Lewis,” he said.

At dinner, Darcy convinced Fallon and Angela to give her their leftover drink umbrellas. She wanted to put them in her updo. “I can’t believe I’ve agreed to live with you,” Brock said. “Hold on, one of your umbrellas is crooked.” He fixed it for her.

“What do you mean, you’re living together?” Fallon asked.

“Jane and Jack want to move in together while Tony does some remodeling, so we’re swapping places,” Darcy said. “They’re taking my one bedroom and I’m moving into Jack’s old room. Don’t they look happy?” she said, looking at Jane and Jack at the other end of the table.

“They do,” Fallon said. When Fallon went to the bathroom with her mother, she raised her eyebrows significantly. “Did you hear that?” she asked. “They’re moving in together. Since when can he stand to be around anyone but Jack, Ma?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The carousel at Lighthouse Point Park is just gorgeous and people's weddings there look amazing: http://www.fritzphotographyct.com/lauren-jon-carlos-wedding/


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this roommate thing? How's that gonna go?
> 
> (Slight warning for a racy Italian slang term)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos!

Moving Day was a little bit nuts. Darcy woke up in a cranky mood and craving chocolate. “I know it’s PMS.” she told Jane as they moved boxes between apartments, “because I’m all bloated and I cried during a sad commercial while I was getting dressed this morning.”

“Why don’t we go to yoga this afternoon?” Jane suggested.

“It’s not as fun as a hug from Stevie Wayne Rogers, but I’ll take it,” she said. When Clint had semi-retired to Iowa, Steve and Darcy had taken over as SI’s pranksters-in-chief. They’d filled the labs with everything from balloons to Post-Its on several occasions, convinced Jarvis to talk to Tony only in French, and changed everyone’s display names to funny nicknames in the SI text message database. They liked to play-act together, too: sometimes they wandered around the city incognito pretending to be lost German tourists (Steve’s German accent was hilarious), other times they were affectionate southern newlyweds named Darcybelle and Stevie Wayne. He liked to say he “reckoned she was as pretty as a peach,” just to see people’s faces as they tried to work it out.

“You’ll get Steve hugs next week,” Jane said. “I’m sure he’s excited to be back.”

“He is, we Skyped yesterday from DC,” Darcy said. Steve, Bucky, and Sharon were all in DC, schmoozing politicians as part of Bucky’s pardon situation. Darcy had missed him. She loved Steve.

 

***

Of everyone, Darcy had the most stuff. “How did you get all these knicknacks, Lewis?” Brock grumbled, once they had all her things in the apartment. “You’re worse than a Sicilian nonna.”

“Stop making fun of my stuff, Agent Rambo,” she told him. “Besides, it’s mostly little things.”

“I think I’m being nice, letting you fill my apartment with all your Elvis portraits and your twinkle lights,” he said, holding up a string of lights skeptically. “Where should I put them?”

“ _My_ apartment, huh? That’s how it is?” she asked.

“Our apartment,” he said. Then he shook his head slightly, like a wet dog. “I can’t believe I’m sharing an apartment with someone who is going to play “Hound Dog” at three in the morning and eats cheese doodles,” he said. “How did I get here?”

“Oh em gee, you know what I miss? Cheese balls. They were like cheese doodles, but round. We used to get them in these big blue cans? I wonder why they stopped making those?” she said.

“I’m gonna guess it’s the name,” Brock said, wryly.

“I used to love those and Calypso chips,” Darcy told him. “They were like a sweet-spicy barbeque chip. That name was fine.”

“Uh, I’m going to put this box in your room,” Brock said.

“Why?” she asked.

“It’s underwear, Lewis. I don’t mind unpacking your plates, but I draw the line at your bras and panties,” he said.

“What, are you afraid you’ll catch my girl cooties, start collecting porcelain figurines or something?” she teased.

“I didn’t unpack Jack’s briefs, either,” he said.

“So you know what kind of drawers he wears?” she asked.

“Drawers, _mia fragolina_?” he asked wryly.

“Are you calling me swear words in Italian already?” she asked. “If so, I owe Tony $10.”

“You don’t owe Tony money,” he said, smiling a little. “I think I’m going to put these lights around the mantle of that ridiculous fake fireplace.” All the apartments had those wall-mounted, LED electric fireplaces.

“What’s wrong with it? I like it. Do you know you can change the rock colors?” she asked.

“If it doesn’t have real logs and a chimney, it ain’t a damn fireplace, it’s a television that only plays one show,” Brock said.

“You are so going to freak over my LED candles, aren’t you?” Darcy asked him. She’d already decided tonight would be a _hygge_ sort of night.

“You have LED candles?” he asked.

“It’s a _hygge_ thing. Have you heard of that? It’s like Scandinavian cozy culture. It was my favorite thing about Norway. Except they use real candles. I had to start using LEDs after Jane’s second Science!-related fire,” she told him. “You get blankets, candles, hot cocoa,” she told him.

“And do what?” he asked.

“Be cozy? Read? Play board games? Have popcorn? It’s a cold climate thing,” she told him. “It’s like vegging out on the couch, only more fancy.”

“I’m going to run an errand,” Brock told her after they’d unpacked. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Take Jack with you if you leave the building, okay?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she told him. “Just to yoga downstairs.”

“Good,” he said.

 

When Darcy googled it on her phone after he left, she found out _mia fragolina_ meant “my little strawberry.” Italians used it as a nickname for their daughters and sometimes their girlfriends. It was kinda sweet, she thought. She’d always liked strawberries.

 

***

“Hey, man, how are you?” Dave asked Brock, when he’d arrived at the bakery. “I got your cannoli all ready.” Dave was taking a break and met him at the alley door that they used for deliveries.

“Thanks,” Brock said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Let me pay your for these, huh?”

“I’ll take your money,” Dave said, accepting the cash. “How’s your new roommate? You having fun with _mia patatina_?” He winked.

“It’s not like that,” Brock said. “And she’s not your little potato. Or your anything else.” _Patatina_ could be wholly innocent or slightly dirty; people sometimes used “little potato” as a risqué slang term for vagina.

“Hey, she proposed to me first,” Dave said cheerfully. “Look at you, being all overprotective. I give it a week, max.”

“Look, I’ve got self-control, okay? I’m not an animal,” Brock said. “I can be around a woman without screwing her.”

“Yeah, but I’ve seen her,” Dave said. “She’s…” He tilted his head and looked thoughtful.

“What?” Brock said, tensing slightly.

“Earthy,” Dave said. “Sensual. You can’t hold out against that kind of woman forever.”

“You think I can’t hold out against earthy?” Brock said incredulously.

“Nah. Especially not when the sexy, earthy broad looks like she could be Nigella Lawson's little sister. Eats like it too. You’re gonna be having cannoli in bed with her, you asshole,” Dave said. “At your age, having a woman like that just fall in your lap? Move in with you? Don’t tell me you’re indifferent, it's insulting,” Dave said. He looked faintly disbelieving.

“We’re friends,” Brock said. “Just friends.”

“I can’t believe you’re getting paid just to follow her around. She’s exactly the kind of woman you chased around the neighborhood when we were kids. You liked ‘em funny back then,” Dave mused out loud. “You know, Connie has this theory that you only have one night stands or relationships with serious women because you don’t want to get too attached? Just like you drink that damn green juice instead of eating real food, even though you love food? She says you’re an ascetic now.”

“I’m very happy Connie’s enjoying her word-a-day calendar, but just give me the damn cannoli,” Brock said. “I don’t need psychoanalysis.”

“Sure,” Dave said, handing him a two boxes in a shopping bag. “The top one is something special for my girl, so you don’t be eating that.”

“I’m not eating any of it,” Brock said under his breath.

“It’s all for her, isn’t it? That’s cute,” Dave said. “I’m very happy for you. You better ask me to be the best man, not Crocodile Dundee.”

“Fuck you, Dave.”

 

***

Being called a “little strawberry” ended up being the highlight of Darcy’s afternoon. Their usual yoga teacher, a sweet woman in her sixties whose teaching approach was pleasantly low-key, was on vacation. Her substitute was a terrifyingly frosty and flexible woman who started class by going on a fifteen-minute lecture about the evils of the dairy industry, then led them through a breakneck round of vinyasa poses that left Darcy sweating and struggling to get her lunges right without collapsing on the floor. Stopping next to her to do an adjustment, the substitute teacher poked her puffy PMS belly and said, “A little chubby, aren’t we? You should try a detox cleanse. Might take care of this problem area, love.”

Darcy did not feel particularly loved at that moment. “That was really shitty,” Jane said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Several women nodded and looked slightly offended.

“What happened to being nice to cows?” Darcy joked self-deprecatingly, once the sub returned to the front of the class. She was blinking back her PMS tears.

“You’re not a cow, Darce,” Jane said hotly. She’d unconsciously balled up her fists and looked ready to start something with the sub.

“It’s okay, let’s just go,” Darcy said. They left in the middle of class and Jane glared daggers at the teacher. To Darcy’s surprise, several other SI employees left, too. One of them stopped Darcy. She was in HR. Her name was Linda.

“I’m totally going to Maria Hill to complain,” Linda said. “You should, too.”

“I don’t want to make a big deal out of it,” Darcy said. “She’ll file a report, it’ll be official, it gets awkward?”

“I think you should, Darce,” Jane said. They convinced her that the substitute was just going to insult more people if they didn’t complain. “You’ll feel bad if it turns out she insulted other people,” Jane said reasonably.

“You know me too well,” Darcy told Jane, as the three of them walked to HR.

“I’ve never understood why you let people put you down and only get really offended when other people are mistreated?” Jane asked. “You did the same thing with Ian. He’d make some little passive-aggressive crack at you and you’d dismiss it as no big deal, but if he insulted someone else, you called him out about it? Remember that wedding?”

“Yeah,” Darcy said.

“Her ex had been making little jokes at her expense all day,” Jane explained to Linda, “but the minute he called my ex “thick as a plank,” she waved her finger in his face and told him to shut it. I was really proud of you, Darce. I just wish you protected yourself as well as you protect people you care about.”

“Thor isn’t thick as a plank, though. He’s actually pretty smart,” Darcy said.

“He called _Thor_ thick as a plank? Thor with the hammer?” Linda said incredulous.

“Uh-huh,” Jane said. “Thor wasn’t there, of course. He’d have never said it to his face.”

 

***

When she got back to the apartment after that supremely uncomfortable HR visit, Brock was making dinner. It smelled spectacular in the whole apartment. He’d picked up fresh ravioli from Borgatti’s after he left Dave. “Hey, Lewis, where you been? Jarvis told me you were on another floor, but wouldn’t say where?” he said. “I was a little worried you were up to mischief,” he teased.

“It’s not a big deal,” Darcy said flatly. He looked at her closely. She’d gotten a little teary during the meeting. It was the PMS. Any other time of the month, she would have been merely pissed off, but when she had PMS, she cried first and then got mad. She hated crying. Especially in front of people.

“What happened?” he said, putting his sauce spoon down.

“Um, can we not talk about it?” she asked. “I’ll just cry again. I was just insulted by a mean vegan yoga teacher and then Jane and I and another employee in the class reported it to HR,” she said, wiping at one eye under her glasses. He walked over and wrapped his arms around her, which only made her cry harder.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, sweetheart,” he said. “It’s going to be okay. I got you.”

“Whatever you’re making smells delicious,” she said, desperate to change the subject.

“I’m roasting chicken and I’ve got Borgatti’s ravioli. I stopped by Dave’s, too. He made you something special. I think he’s planning on saying yes to your proposal. You might have to become polygamist Mormons or something?” he said tenderly.

“You think he’d convert for me?” Darcy said, smiling through her tears. “I’m not sure I’d like those prairie dresses, though. That high collar looks itchy.” Brock laughed.

When she explained what the yoga teacher said, he swore and attempted to go chew her out. “I’m sure she’s gone for the day, my dude,” Darcy said. “What are you going to do, find her at home?”

“Who’s gonna stop me?” he said in an intent voice. “I can’t believe she said that shit to you.” She’d never seen him so upset.

“HR is handling it,” she told him. “Maria Hill has probably fired her already.”

“Good, anybody bothers you like that again, you tell me, okay?” he said. “Here, the ravioli are done. They’re pumpkin. I made a sage and brown butter sauce.” He slid her a plate. He’d spooned butter sauce over the top of them.

“You’re not eating?” she asked in confusion.

“Not these. Just the chicken and vegetables, they’ll be done in about fifteen minutes,” he said. “These are just for you.”

“Well, that makes me feel great,” she said sarcastically. “You’re dieting? You? You’re the most fit person I know,” she said. He shrugged.

“Jack didn’t mention it?” he asked. “I tend to do, uh, cycles? I’m in a low carb phase to lean down now, just because I might need to field qualify if I apply for a different job?”

“Leaning down from what?” she asked, befuddled.

“I gained three pounds,” he said. “It’s the home food. I usually gain about five every Christmas. It’s not a big deal, just a work thing.”

“Oh. I thought you weren’t talking about fieldwork for another six months, given how much Tony’s paying you here?” she asked. He and Jack had talked about it in the lab.

“There’s some openings at Langley,” he said. “I might be able to get on a tactical team sooner.”

“Okay,” she said, looking down at her ravioli. She dug at one with a fork and wondered what she was supposed to say.

“I’ll get you some wine,” he said, grabbing a glass.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “This is really nice of you to do. I appreciate it. I didn’t mean to ruin our first official roommates dinner with my sads.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he said in a low voice.

 

After dinner, she planted herself on the sofa with a heating pad over her tender belly. Brock brought her coffee with amaretto and the box from Dave’s. “Let’s see what he made for you?” he suggested, snapping the tape holding down the folds on the sides. “I’m under strict instructions not to eat it.”

They ended up being two kinds of eclairs: salted caramel and hazelnut coffee. “Oooh, look, he put gold sugar sprinkles on top, too. They’re almost too pretty to eat, Brock,” she said.

“Uh-huh,” he said.

Dave had written her a note on the inside of the lid asking what she thought of them, because he wanted to sell them in the shop. Brock groaned when he saw it.

“What?” Darcy asked. “What’s a _mia patatina_?”

“It literally means my little potato,” he said.

“Awwwwww,” she said. “I like it.”

“It’s also a slang word,” he continued, “which is vulgar and he should not be saying to you. He knows this. It’s disrespectful.”

“He’s doing it to mess with you, isn’t he?” Darcy said, delighted.

“Uh-huh,” he said.

“What’s it mean?” she asked.

“Pussy,” he said.

Darcy laughed. “I love Dave,” she said. “He’s the best. I’m going to write him a whole report on these eclairs. I can’t believe they’re all mine. My precious,” she said, clutching the box and petting it. A few minutes later, when she was midway through one of the hazelnut eclairs, she looked up and caught Brock watching her. “You can have one,” she said. “I’ll never tell. I’m not a snitch, Rummy.”

“Rummy?” he said.

“You need a nickname,” she told him, licking her lips.

“Pick a different one,” he said.

“Brocko?” she said teasingly.

“Not that one,” he said.

“Are you sure you don’t want an eclair?” she offered. “Really, you can have one.”

“I don’t want an eclair, Lewis,” Brock said. “I’m going to the gym.”

“You’re going to the gym?” she said.

“Uh-huh,” he said.

 

***

 **Agent Rambo:** How you settling in?

 **Agent Outback:** Everything’s apples, mate. Jane was bloody furious about the yoga teacher thing, but I calmed her down.

 **Agent Rambo:** Good. I’m headed to the gym.

 **Agent Outback:** At 10:30 at night?

 **Agent Rambo:** I have to get a run in.

 **Agent Outback:** You aren’t having a dust-up with Lewis, are you?

 **Agent Rambo:** Nope. I just have energy.

 **Agent Outback:** Energy?

 **Agent Outback:** Wouldn’t have anything to do with your new roommate, would it?

 **Agent Rambo:** Of course not. She’s much prettier than my old one, though.

 

Two hours later, Jack uncurled himself from around a drowsy Jane on the sofa. “I’m going to go check on him, love,” he told her. “AI says he’s still up there.”

“Come back soon,” Jane said sleepily. She wiggled into the warmth he’d left behind.

“Will do, my angel,” Jack said.

He found Brock on a rowing machine. It was one of the rowing machines with a water chamber for realistic resistance, so there was a pleasant sluicing sound as he rowed.

“Well, ain’t this a beaut of a problem? What’s got you so wound up?” Jack asked.

“Nothing,” Brock said.

“I seem to remember that you blew out your shoulder on one of them when we first saw Barnes, you were so rattled by what HYDRA did to him,” Jack said. “Tricky piece of equipment. Nice sound, though.”

“I’m not having flashbacks, hallucinations, or nightmares, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Brock said.

“This about Sharon, then?” Jack asked. “I know she’ll be back on Wednesday.”

“Nope,” Brock said, pulling backward with force. He was drenched with sweat.

“You wanna tell me about it?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“Mate, you gotta talk to somebody if you’ve still got feelings for Sharon, all right? It’s not going to be easy if she and Rogers are living here. I really thought you were past being upset about that. You hadn’t been this bothered in a dog’s age,” Jack said.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Brock said, releasing the arms of the rowing machine. “I don’t give a damn about Cap and Sharon. I hope they’re happy.” He picked up a towel and wiped his forehead. Then he draped his arms over his knees and was silent for a minute.

“It’s not that, huh?” Jack said quietly.

“It’s not,” Brock said.

“Okay,” Jack said. “Well, you know where to find me if you change your mind. Don’t get too knackered, we still have work tomorrow.” He chuckled. He’d gotten as far as the doorway before Brock said his name. “Yeah?” Jack said, turning.

“I might have some difficulties with my new roommate,” Brock said, sipping his water.

“What’s that now?” Jack said. “Difficulties?” He walked back over and looked down at his friend.

“I thought I could handle it,” Brock said. “She’s just so…”

Jack frowned. “I thought you were getting on well?” he asked. “You squabbling already? Look, you have to cut her some slack if she’s getting on your nerves, she’s had a rough day,” Jack began, but stopped when Brock waved him off with an ambiguous expression. It was the ghost of a grin.

“It’ll be all right. Nothing I can’t handle,” Brock told him. He went back to his rowing and Jack returned to his Jane.

 

When he got back to the apartment, Darcy had fallen asleep on the on the couch. He put away her heating pad, took the coffee mug to the sink, and attempted to pry the box of eclairs out of her grasp. “Wake up, Lewis,” he said, stroking her cheek. “You need to go to bed.”

“No, no,” she said softly, half-asleep. “Mine.” He chuckled. She had a bit of caramel on her nose.

 

***

The next week, Jane saw Steve, Bucky and Sharon in the hallway outside her lab. They were talking to Tony. Steve broke away from the group and jogged over to her.

“Jane! It’s so good to see you, doll,” he said, hugging her with such enthusiasm that she was almost lifted off her feet. “How are you?” he asked.

“I’m great,” she said, leaving her arms around his neck.

“I heard you got a new fella,” he said, smiling. “Old coworker of mine, huh?”

“I do. Jack and I just moved in together,” she said. “He’s stepped out to get lunch for us, but I know he wants to say hi.”

“You happy? You got a glow about you,” he said. “It’s enough to make me forgive him for that whole business in the elevator.” He smiled.

“Steve! I forgot about that,” she said. Jack and Brock had faked trying to apprehend Steve several times during their tenure as double--or was the right term triple?--agents. It had not gone well.

“I didn’t,” he said, chuckling. “You shoulda seen my bruises. Jack clocked me good. Buck and I owe him and Rumlow a thank you, too, for how they tried to help him.” Jack and Brock had attempted to put together enough information to free Bucky from HYDRA before DC. There just hadn’t been time to do it safely.

“You look happy,” Jane told him. She wondered if it was Sharon making him so joyful or having his childhood best friend back. It was probably both. Steve was positively radiating happiness.

“I am. Where’s my Darcybelle?” Steve asked, beaming.

“She and Rumlow are running errands,” Jane said. “She’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“I’ve been waiting for this day ever since I got Bucky back,” he said. “Can’t wait for ‘em to meet. This is the big show.”

“The big show?” Jane asked.

“The fireworks show,” he said. “They’re perfect for each another.” Steve grinned.

“You want to set up Darce and Bucky?” Jane asked, realization dawning.

“He’s always liked a girl with moxie and I don’t know anyone else who has Darcy’s sass,” Steve said. “She’s the girl for him. I been telling him all about her.”

Jane peered around Steve. The man she recognized as Bucky Barnes--it was hard to mistake that metal arm--glanced at her shyly, then gave her a smile so sweet that it was practically made of cotton candy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just keep thinking of that sweet little smile that Sebastian Stan does in CA:CW when Steve kisses Sharon. It's adorbs.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve likes to tell people that he's Darcy's brother-cousin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos.

When Darcy and Brock returned to the lab, Steve, Bucky, and Sharon were waiting. “Darcybelle,” Steve said happily, bouncing to his feet and swinging her around in his arms. She laughed.

“Stevie, I missed your giant hugs,” she told him.

“Hi, Sharon, Barnes,” Brock said, nodding to each of them. “How are you?” he asked.

Bucky was staring at Steve and Darcy with an oddly beatific expression, Brock thought. Sharon looked at Brock more coolly.

“We’re all well,” she said.

“I hear you’re returning to the Agency?” Brock asked.

“And you’re applying for a job in field work?” she asked. “Alone?”

“Uh-huh,” Brock said.

“Good luck,” Sharon said, not unkindly. “I’m surprised you don’t want to stay here with Jack.”

“Too sedate,” he said.

“I heard that!” Darcy said. She was still being twirled by a laughing Steve.

“You’re only encouraging her to be mad as a wallaby with Cap, mate,” Jack said. “Jane’s told me about their pranks.”

“It’s nuts,” Jane said. “They filled my lab with Minion balloons. We took pictures.”

Sharon smiled. “Yeah, we’ve been hearing stories, too,” she said.

“Buck, come over here and meet my little sister-cousin,” Steve said.

“Sister-cousin?” Brock said, arching an eyebrow.

“They stole that from a TV show. When they aren’t pretending to be confusing Germans or southern newlyweds, Steve likes to tell strangers his father had an affair with his sister-in-law, so nobody knows if Darcy is his cousin or his sister. You should see their responses,” Jane said. “He’s so straight-faced, they actually believe it.”

 

Brock watched as Bucky Barnes shyly approached Darcy. He was smiling. She mock-saluted him and said something about him being a little late to the prank party and he blushed. They both seemed to be a little smitten. “Steve wants to set them up,” Jane whispered quietly to the two men.

“It’s all he talks about,” Sharon said, grinning. “He thinks they’d have fun together.” Brock frowned.

 

***

Darcy was talking to Bucky when it dawned on her that Steve was looking at them with a kind of fascinated eagerness. She recognized that look. Natasha did a more subtle version whenever she was setting you up with someone. By contrast, Steve looked like a hopeful puppy. “Punk’s told me a lot about you,” Bucky said in his gravelly Brooklyn accent. His eyes were a light grey-blue, Darcy realized, with something guarded and slightly tentative behind him. He was nervous, she realized, from the way he was fidgeting with the ballcap in his hands. Maybe even a little afraid of how she’d respond. He flicked his glance over to Steve.

“Stevie Wayne adores you,” Darcy told him, trying to sound reassuring. “Even before you came back, I heard all kinds of stories about Coney Island and how he was your third wheel on a bunch of dates. To hear him tell it, you were the most charming guy in Brooklyn.”

“Yeah?” Bucky said, rubbing the sleeve of his red henley with his flesh arm. “He talk about me a lot?” He looked a little wry and skeptical.

“All the time,” Darcy said, feeling a weird impulse to tear up. There was something very fragile about Bucky Barnes, for all his dangerousness. She wanted to hug him, but she wasn’t sure if he’d freak out.

“Maybe you could hang out with us sometime, Darcybelle? See a movie?” Steve offered hopefully.

“Why, Stevie, I do declare that I would love to,” Darcy drawled jokingly. That got a brief, tooth-achingly sweet smile out of Bucky. When Steve stepped away for a second--Darcy was sure Sharon had called him over so he’d stop looking at them like that--she decided to say something. “I know you’ve been through a lot,” Darcy said, “so if there’s anything I can do to help out, just ask. I’m sort of the office gal round these parts.”

“That’s real nice of you,” he said. He looked around the room. “It’s different, isn’t it?” he said.

“Yes,” Darcy said, laughing, “just wait until Tony rolls out his next crazy robot.”

“Listen, doll,” Bucky said, “Punk’s talked a lot about you, so I’m sure he’ll be talking me up, too.”

“He does have a certain look, doesn’t he?” Darcy said, leaning in. “I think he’s gone broody on us.” Bucky laughed.

“Well, it’s just, uh,” Bucky said, “I’d like to settle in a little first? Get to know one another as friends?”

“I’d like that, Buck,” Darcy said. “No worries, as Jack would say.” Bucky gave her that adorable little smile again and it was all Darcy could do not to go “awwwwwwww” like a cartoon character.

 

“He wants to set you up with Bucky,” Jane told Darcy later, once they were alone in the ladies room.

“Uh-huh, I got that. Stevie’s not subtle,” Darcy said, reapplying her lip gloss.

“What do you think?” Jane said. “He’s very cute. And hasn’t it been awhile for you?”

“Gee, thanks. Yeah, it’s been some time and, yeah, he’s very hot. Thighs for days, Jane. Thighs for days,” Darcy said. “But I think he’s a little overwhelmed right now.”

“Booooo,” Jane said.

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said. “Be a real change from Ian, wouldn’t it?”

“Dear God, yes, don’t you want that?” Jane said. “It would do you good.”

"You know what? I think I do," Darcy said.

***

At dinner, Darcy looked at Brock. He caught her gaze. “What is it, Lewis?” he asked, smiling.

“Would you have an affair with me? A sexual one?” she asked. He choked on his mineral water.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re bored, aren’t you?” Darcy asked. “I’ve been thinking I’d like to have a casual fling for the first time. I’ve always been serious about people I slept with, always wanted it to work. Jane was saying I don’t protect myself well enough in relationships. It might be good for me to have that experience before I settle down with somebody, you know? Something where I can set better boundaries because I’m not as emotionally involved. Like practice? If you’re moving on in a few months, the timing’s right, isn’t it?”

He stared at her. “Jesus H. Christ,” he said.

“We can keep it fairly quiet, if you want?” she offered.

“You want to have a fling with me? I thought Cap was setting you up with Barnes?” he said, rubbing his jaw.

“Yeah, Jane told me he wants to after they left today,” Darcy said.

“You’re not interested?” Brock said, looking almost relieved, Darcy thought.

“No, I mean, he’s really cute and sweet and like stupidly hot, but it just feels like people really want me and Bucky to work out and we just met today? It’s got me thinking,” Darcy said. “I get attached quickly, he’s got this whole dramatic past....”

“You’d be the first person he’s dated since he came out of the vault,” Brock said grimly.

“Well, yeah, what if I hurt him? All our friends really want this, that’s a lot of pressure for him. He’s been through a lot.” Darcy said. Brock looked at her.

“You’re worried you’ll hurt _him_?” he said. “Have you not seen what he can do?”

“But he didn’t mean to do any of it,” Darcy said.

“Lewis, he’s not a puppy you can rescue from a bad situation, he’s one of the twentieth century’s most deadly assassins,” Brock said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I thought you liked Bucky?” she asked.

“I like him fine, but I want you to be careful,” he said.

“I’ll be careful,” she told him. “I’ll tell Stevie that we ought to just hang out?” She scrunched her face thoughtfully. “How do you tell women that without it sounding like rejection?” she asked him.

“Is that how it is?” he asked, putting his arm back down on the table. “I say no to your casual practice fling, so you try to Netflix and chill with Barnes?” he asked.

“I don’t know! I’m just noodling ideas,” she said. “This is all new to me.”

“What brought this on, exactly?” he asked.

She blushed. “I might have lied when I said I’d had sex recently?” she said tentatively. 

“You want me to sleep with you so you don’t throw yourself at the Soviet Murderbot, wreck your friendships, blah blah blah?” Brock said.

“How did you know about Tony’s nickname for Bucky?” Darcy asked quizzically.

“Jane told Jack, Jack told me,” he said.

“I mean I wouldn’t put it that way….” she said.

“I’ll think about it,” he said. “Give me twenty-four hours, okay?”

"You're considering it?" Darcy asked.

"Why not? As long as we're both on the same page," Brock said.

 

Darcy went to bed that night, turned on all her LED candles, and sipped her hot cocoa, trying not to think about Bucky Barnes’s impressive thighs. That was not a productive line of thought if she wanted to be sensible around him. She was very attached to Steve and didn’t want to hurt Steve’s best friend. Or get badly burned again, like she had with Ian. She was reading a magazine on her Stark tablet when Brock knocked on her door. “You awake?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said, “come in. You know what I miss? _Cottage Living._ That was a fun magazine. I always wanted to own, like, a kitschy little cottage in Key West or something. Every other decorating magazine is so formal, you kn--.” She looked up in surprise. “Are you stripping?” she asked, incredulous. She hadn’t realized he was barefoot and now he was taking his shirt off.

“Lewis, we’re fucking tonight,” he said, grinning wryly and tossing his shirt on the floor. “Take off your little girly pajamas,” he said. “I’m going to tell you my conditions for this fling we’re having.”

“You’re very bossy, my dude,” she said, without making a move.

“Yeah, you’re gonna like that about me,” he said, walking over to the bed and climbing on top of her. He kissed her. His stubble was pleasantly scratchy.

“You’re serious?” she said, when he pulled away.

“No,” he said, “It’s an elaborate hoax. I like to pretend to be interested when gorgeous women want me to have sex with them, just as a joke.” He started unbuttoning her pajama top. “The little rubber duckies are very cute, though.”

“You like my duckie pajamas?” she asked teasingly.

“Yes, nothing makes me feel less like an old perv than ogling you in your collection of pajamas, Lewis. If it’s not flying pigs or gingerbread men, it’s unicorns and rubber duckies,” he said sarcastically, shaking his head. She laughed, but sucked in a breath when he started kissing her cleavage tenderly.

“I thought you had conditions?” she asked.

“Uh-huh,” he said. “We’re gonna have a lot of fun until I leave for Langley or wherever I end up. But it’s not going to be a secret. Romanoff already thinks we’ve been seeing each other a little, so we’re seeing each other now. Holding hands, being obnoxiously affectionate in public, the whole bit. It’ll give you a chance to get to know Barnes without everybody breathing down your necks, won’t it?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Darcy said, squirming a little. What he was doing with his hands was really nice. “What do you get?” she asked him.

“Sex with a beautiful girl,” he said, grinning at her. “Lots of sex. Very beautiful girl. Also, I want my mother to know we’re seeing each other.”

“You do?” she said, incredulous.

“She adores you, it’ll make her very happy with me. And once it hasn’t worked out between us, what with you being the perfect woman, maybe she’ll realize I’m a lost cause,” he said.

“Hey, that’s mean,” she said, swatting at him.

“Oooh, kinky, Lewis, you want to slap me around? I could do something with that,” he said teasingly.

“I can’t believe you want to pretend to be dating me,” she said. He grinned.

“ _Sei tutto ciò che voglio,_ ” he said in a warm voice.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“Let’s get your pants off,” he said.

 

***

When she woke up the next morning, she could hear Brock whistling in the kitchen. She texted Jane.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I slept with Grumpy Cat last night.

 **Astro-mazing Scientist:** What?!?!

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** Yeah.

 **Astro-mazing Scientist:** I thought you and Bucky might hit it off?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** That felt like too much pressure, you know? Anyway...

 **Astro-mazing Scientist:** How was it?

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** I really thought he was bullshitting about being good in bed. He was not. I’m very confused now. How can you tell who has a tiny penis if it’s not the guys who brag that they’re so good in bed?

 **Astro-mazing Scientist:** Enjoy your day off with him, Darce.

 **World’s Okayest Assistant:** You’re giving me the day off?

 **Astro-mazing Scientist:** You’ve covered for me and Jack all the time. Take the day.         

 

“Are you cooking? That smells amazing,” Darcy called.

“I’m making you French toast, _mia fragolina_ ,” he called back.

“Oh my God, you’re feeding me again?” she said, getting up and putting on her fluffy bathrobe. He’d made dinner the night before.

“I’m an excellent fake boyfriend,” he said, when she shuffled sleepily into the kitchen.

“I think you have a food thing, my dude. Why do I smell oranges?” she asked.

“It’s my mother’s recipe. Cointreau, nutmeg, and cinnamon in the batter,” he said. He leaned down and kissed her neck. “I’m going to feed you and then we’re going back to bed until it’s time to go to work.”

“Jane gave us the day off,” Darcy told him.

“I owe that woman a gift,” he said.

 

***

He sent Jane chocolates. Darcy was even more surprised when Brock called his mother to tell her they were dating and was openly affectionate with Darcy that week. He held hands in public, kept touching her, and seemed truly pleased when people asked how long they’d been seeing one another.  “It’s new,” he told Frank the security guard cheerfully, “but we’re very happy, aren’t we, baby?” he asked Darcy.

“Yeah,” Darcy said, leaning against him when he squeezed her. “We’re very happy.” At moments like this, she remembered he was a very convincing undercover agent.

“Package for you, Mr. Rumlow,” Frank told him. Brock tucked it under his arm.

“Thanks, Frank,” Brock said. “Huh, it’s from my mother.”

When they walked away, she whispered, “aren’t you overselling it a bit? I thought we were trying to have a believable public fling?”

“You don’t think I look realistically happy?” he said.

“You’re beaming,” she told him.

“You were pretty smiley after sex this morning,” he teased. “Oh, get it,” he said. “You’re used to whatshisface, the British guy? I bet he referred to you as his coworker for weeks before he’d even say the word girlfriend, didn’t he? Went around looking like if he smiled, his face would break?”

“It was months, actually,” Darcy admitted, crossing her arms. “He was reserved. It’s an English thing.”

“Uh-huh,” Brock said. “It’s an asshole thing, Lewis. No guy with half a brain would be embarrassed to be with you. Nobody should do that to you.”

“Did you just give me the ‘Nobody puts Baby in a corner’ speech?” she said.

“Fal loves that damn movie,” he said.

 

That night, Darcy made dinner for a change. Brock was opening the package from his mother while Darcy pushed around her stir-fry. “Oh, no,” Brock said. “Lewis, I am so sorry,” he said, chuckling, “I may have overplayed my hand with Ma.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“She has sent you a gift,” he said wryly. “A truly hideous gift.” He held up something metal and glinting in the light.

“Is that a religious medal?” Darcy asked, peering at it through the steam from her wok.

“Several. A St. Benedict, a Miraculous Medal, a cross, and a Sacred Heart,” he said, chuckling. “C’mere.” She turned off the heat and walked over. He pulled her into his lap, stroking her hip.

“I thought your parents weren’t religious?” she asked, taking the necklace. His mother had mentioned something jokey in New Haven about being “semi-lapsed” Catholics.

“They are not,” he said. “This is a trick necklace.”

“A trick necklace?” Darcy asked. “Does it do something?” Darcy wasn’t religious herself. Her parents had only celebrated “fun” semi-secular things like Christmas and Valentine’s Day, never gone to church.

“No,” he said, laughing. “This is the first gift that my father ever gave my mother. My father hated church. It bored him. There was some sort of incident when he was young. I think somebody accused one of his buddies of stealing some church funds? Dad used to say there were more thieves in church than outside? Dad knew his buddy was innocent, but they were the wild kids, so the friend got blamed, instead of whoever really did it.”

“Scapegoated,” Darcy said.

“Uh-huh,” Brock said. “So, my father meets my mother. Her parents were more conservative, older. She was the baby of the family. My father has this reputation for being the guy who cussed out his priest at fifteen.”

“Didn’t go over well?” Darcy asked.

“Nope, but my father is determined,” he said. “Stubborn. He likes the challenge, too. He had lots of competition because Ma’s so pretty and vivacious, you know? So, he decides to outfox the potential in-laws by pretending to turn over a new leaf. He writes a formal letter of apology to the priest, he starts going to church, he does the yard work for them and every old lady on the block, and he gives my mother this ugly necklace. It was old-fashioned even in 1970.”

“Then what?”

He laughed. “The minute they were married, he ditched all of that and never went to church again. He didn’t even really care if she wore it, it wasn’t her style. She likes big, bright jewelry, you know?”

“How did your mother feel about that?” Darcy asked.

“She loved every second. Who do you think helped him come up with the plan?” he said. He grinned at her. Darcy laughed.

“Your mom is awesome. But Fallon doesn’t want these?” Darcy asked. “They don’t have sentimental value to her?”

“To Fal? She double-majored in communications and women’s studies, she thinks this is sexist claptrap,” Brock said. “Winning over the potential in-laws like my Ma can’t decide for herself?”

“That’s really sweet of your mom, though,” Darcy said. “I feel bad. She’s giving me sentimental family heirlooms because she thinks this is a real relationship.” Darcy sighed and looked at the medals.

“Lewis,” he said, “this is a St. Benedict medal. Benedict medals are for converting sinners and easy childbirth. My mother is unconsciously hoping you’ll exert a good influence on me and then we’ll have babies.”

“No, she’s not,” Darcy said, snorting.

“I’d keep an eye on your birth control if we go to New Haven,” he said. “It might disappear. Anyway, you don’t have to wear these. It’s not exactly your style, either.”

Darcy took the medals and hung them on a charm necklace Jane had given her for her last birthday. It was a long strand of czech glass beads with a center clasp for charms. Jane had given her a little twinkly star to go on the necklace, but she'd never added to it. Somehow, it all looked right together. She figured it was because the necklace had sort of a rosary style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sei tutto ciò che voglio = "you're all I want"
> 
> I'm imagining that Darcy's birthday gift from Jane was something this necklace (https://www.waxingpoetic.com/ensemble-necklace-bright-silver-18-inch) + a little star charm.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark so does prank memos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos. Y'all are the best!

“So,” Steve said to Darcy the next day, “you seeing Rumlow?” She’d stopped by the Avengers common room alone to deliver some of Natasha’s favorite Russian cookies. She and Brock had tried a restaurant that Nat recommended in Little Odessa. It had been very good, so she’d gotten Nat some thank you cookies. Steve was in the process of filching a cookie when he asked about Brock.

“Uh-huh,” Darcy told him, “I am. It’s pretty new. We get along well. Don’t you eat all Nat’s cookies, Captain. She’ll get you.” He beamed at her.

“Darcybelle,” Steve said sweetly, “I was hoping you and Buck would hit it off.”

“I know that, Stevie,” she said.

“You do? Then what’s the hold up?” he asked, looking at her sincerely.

“Have you not talked to Bucky about this?” Darcy said softly. “He’s a little bit overwhelmed. He wants us--me and him--to be friends for a little while, Stevie. So, we’re being friends.”

“If you’re happy, I’m happy for you,” he said a little doubtfully.

“But?” she asked.

“Rumlow used to date Sharon. The rumor’s always been that he’s hung up on her. I don’t want you getting hurt, sister cousin,” Steve said. Darcy ruffled his hair.

“I’m gonna be okay,” she said. “It’s very casual between me and Brock. No dramas, he’s still going to Langley or wherever soon,” she said, borrowing one of Jack’s phrases. “No dramas” meant the same thing as “no worries.”

“So, maybe one day, you and Bucky could go on that date?” Steve asked hopefully.

“Oh em gee, you are the world’s most adorable matchmaker, Stevie. That face you’re giving me is just, _ugh_ ,” Darcy said, pressing her hands to her heart. “That’s a lethal dose of sucrose. You’re killing me, sweetie pie.” She mock-swooned. “I’m dying here!” she said. He chuckled.

“I want to stay outta you and Buck’s business, doll, I really do, but I just know you’d be good together. I know it in my heart,” Steve said. “If the timing’s ever right, please go on that date, okay?”

“That’s very sweet of you,” Darcy told him. “I know you care about Bucky, too.”

“And I just don’t think Brock Rumlow is the right guy for you, Darcybelle. He ain’t nearly good enough for somebody as good as you. He’s a horrible womanizer, I mean, not a real flirt the way Buck was, Rumlow’s the kinda guy who drops a girl cold after he goes to bed with her, he was deep in Hydra, he has this thing about Sharon, and, and--” Steve said, looking up at the ceiling.

“What?” Darcy said, giggling at Steve’s visible frustration.

“I just don’t _like_ the man,” Steve said. “Never have.”

“Even before he smacked you good in that elevator?” Darcy asked. “I hear he was the last guy standing out of the whole STRIKE unit.”

“I smacked him back,” Steve grumbled. “Right into the ceiling. Wasn’t standing after that.”

“Stevie Wayne!” Darcy said, shaking her head. He sounded like an irate seven year old.

“Sorry. These are real good cookies, doll,” he said, sneaking a second one and looking at her bashfully. “You make ‘em? Buck likes cookies.”

“I bought them, you cookie thief,” Darcy told him. “C’mon, I want to fill Tony’s lab with something. It’s your turn to pick the something.”

“I was thinking we could do those little plastic balls from kid’s playlands?” he suggested.

“Ooooh, those are like mosh pits for second graders,” she said, grinning. “I wanna jump in one. High five!”

 

***

Brock and Jack met Barnes and Rogers leaving as they headed into the gym one morning that week. “G’day, Cap, Sarge,”Jack said pleasantly. Barnes gave them a little smile and nod.

“Rollins,” Cap said warmly. Then his expression grew a little frosty. “Rumlow.”

“Cap,” Brock said coolly. “You have a nice day now.” Steve Rogers’ returning look was decidedly unfriendly.

 

“You think he picked up that face in the Arctic?” Brock said wryly, once they were alone on the treadmills.

“He’s pissed at you, mate,” Jack said. “He wanted Darce to date Barnes. Thinks you snaked her right out from under Barnes’ nose. I’m a little pissed at you myself.”

“Oh?” Brock said.

“You promised me you wouldn’t mess around with Lewis. You’ve never broken your word to me before,” Jack said.

“You and Jane are in a good place, hell, you’re living together,” Brock said. “Besides, I’m not going to do anything with Lewis that will jeopardize your relationship with Foster, so technically, I’m honoring my word.”

“Is this some sort of elaborate revenge scheme because of Sharon?” Jack asked.

“Revenge scheme?” Brock asked, raising his eyebrows. “Explain that one to me?”

“Cap snaps up your girl when you’re fake-dead, so you decide to seduce Lewis as soon as you find out Cap would like her to date Barnes?” Jack said. “Now you’re running all over the Tower rubbing it in his face? Tony spent all of yesterday broadcasting thinly-veiled hints that Jarvis caught you having sex in the elevator.”

  
“Yes, I waited years for this opportunity, Jack. I timed it perfectly so Cap would be here when I seduced Lewis”--Brock chuckled--“just to deprive Cap of his dearest wish. I wanted him to be hurt just like I am. Lewis is collateral damage in a long-standing love triangle between Cap, me, and _Sharon Carter_ ,” he said sarcastically. “It may surprise you, Jackie, but not all Italians are Sicilian mafia stereotypes. I’m not nursing a longstanding grudge through the generations or swearing complicated vengeance on Cap.”

“You can’t tell me there isn’t still tension there between you and Sharon,” Jack said. “I can feel it.”

“I think just you like saying the name Sharon, Aussie Osbourne,” Brock said. “Everywhere I go, you bleat _“Sharon!”_ at me like we were really in love back then. We weren’t.”

“I just don’t want Lewis to get hurt because you and Cap have some sort of rivalry over her,” Jack mulishly.

“Uh-huh,” Brock said, upping his incline. “Has it ever occurred to you that all the tension is on Sharon’s side, not mine?”

“Sure, mate,” Jack said dubiously.

“Also, everyone assumes I have some sort of vendetta with Cap, but nobody’s pointed out that Cap just waltzed up with a plan to give Lewis to Barnes? Like she’s his property? Lewis ain’t his sister or his cousin, Jack. Even if she was, she has a right to make her own decisions without him glowering at me or making sad faces at her,” Brock said.

“He’s been doing that?” Jack asked, incredulous.

“Of course he has, why do you think Tony wants everyone to believe we’re screwing all over the building? It’s to get under Cap’s skin,” Brock said. “He thinks it’s funny to see Cap look all pouty.”

“And you don’t?” Jack said.

“I may be enjoying it a fractional amount,” Brock admitted. “I’m not looking forward to orchid night, though. My mother will be there, fussing over Lewis and potentially begging her for grandchildren. Also, we’re going to have to keep Fallon from flirting with Cap just to bug Sharon.”

Jack grinned. “I hadn’t even thought about it, mate. That’s going to be interesting, ain’t it?” he asked. Tony had decided to invite himself along, too, and had bought out a special orchid night. So, not only would there be a Foster, a Lewis, a Rollins and some Rumlows, there would be a Stark, a Romanoff, a Sharon Carter, and two guys from Brooklyn, and Bruce Banner, all in a very warm, closed-in environment.

“Very interesting,” Brock said. “How’s your chord practice going?”

“Miserable. My fingers just won’t do right, mate. I’ve got no trouble reloading a gun, but I can’t play an instrument to save my life,” Jack said sadly. “Jane says I’m getting better, but I know she’s just saying that not to hurt my feelings.”

 

Darcy woke up to the smell of coffee. “Are you back?” she called out. She’d woken up a little earlier, realized Brock was in the gym with Jack when she asked Jarvis, and drifted back to sleep.

“Hey,” he said. “You want an espresso?”

“Am I breathing?” Darcy said.

“Steamed milk?”

“God, yes,” she said. They had an insanely fancy Stark espresso machine. It was automatic.

“You have an _Oh The Places You’ll Go!_ Mug?” Brock asked her in a teasing voice. Her coffee mug collection made up the vast majority of her dishes. She liked fun mugs.

“I liked Dr. Suess when I was little,” Darcy said, yawning.

“You like him now,” Brock said back, walking into her bedroom with the mug and his own espresso. He handed it to her, then caught sight of her necklace with his mother’s medals on the nightstand. He tilted his head to one side.

“What?” she said.

“What’d you do to them? They look less ugly,” he said.

“I cleaned them with a silver polishing cloth. That’s a necklace that Jane gave me that I’ve been meaning to get charms for anyway,” she said, swigging at her coffee. “Do you ever drink coffee and it’s like _ahhh_ because a river of clarity has opened up in your brain?” she asked.

“You had too much moscato last night, you’re hungover,” he said cheerfully.

“I love moscato, I don’t care if it’s not classy wine,” Darcy said.

“Yeah, I guessed that when you told me your favorite was the pink fizzy kind,” he said. “Move over, I’m getting in bed with you now.”

“We have to be downstairs in the lab in thirty minutes, there’s no time for sex,” she scolded him.

“Who says I want sex? I just want to drink my damn coffee,” he told her.

It was only when she’d finished the entire espresso that it dawned on Darcy that he’d crawled in bed to snuggle with her while he checked emails. “Are you cuddling me?” she asked skeptically. “You?”

“What, I can’t like that?” he said, squeezing her a little. “You’re all soft and pillowy. It’s one of my favorite things. Feels good.”

“You actually like my squishiness?” she said dubiously. “Did you just affectionately squeeze some of my back fat?”

“Mmm-hmm,” he said.

“So, it’s not just my face you think is pretty?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” he said, evidently confused.

“Well, you know the ‘such a pretty face’ thing?” she asked him.

“No,” he said.

“Maybe it’s a Virginia thing? It’s code for complimenting someone you think has a too-big ass. Men drool over the boobs and everyone else talks about my face. That’s how you know people think you’re fat, they say, “oh, she has such a pretty face,” Darcy said. She did air-quotes around the phrase.

“You do have an extraordinarily pretty face,” he said. “But there’s nothing wrong with the size of your ass, Lewis.”

“Next you’ll be trying to say I have cute cellulite or something,” she grumbled, getting out of bed.

“You probably do. I need to investigate. It might require taking off your clothes in daylight,” he said, sounding ridiculously pleased with himself.

“I have to go to work now,” she told him. She opened her walk-in closet and went inside.

“Hey, you’d like it. Remember how much you liked having sex in that sunbeam the other day? It’s possible you’re part cat, Lewis,” he said.

“Wouldn’t that make Dave’s nickname for me appropriate?” she asked. “Have you told Dave that we’re sleeping together yet?”

“Nope,” Brock said. “He’ll be insufferable when he finds out. Worse than my mother.”

“Really?” she said.

“If there is one person who has been badgering me to ask you out besides Ma, it’s Dave,” he said with irritation. “He knows how much you’re my type.”

“I am?” she said, leaning her head out of the closet. Her shirt was half on. “Jack told Jane I wasn’t,” Darcy said. “Like, not at all.” She looked at him quizzically.

He waved his hand dismissively. “Get dressed, we’ll be late for work,” he said.

 

***

“Hey, help me with this?” Darcy asked, holding up the necklace with his mother’s medals. It was orchid night.

“You don’t have to wear that,” he said.

“I like them on my Janey present, they match,” she told him as he hooked the clasp. With that done, he squeezed her. Or he attempted to.

“What is that?” he asked, sounding horrified.

“Spanx bodysuit. It makes the dress look better,” she said. She turned to look at him. “What?”

“No,” he said, pointing to her closet. “Take it off. I’m not letting you do that to yourself. You’ll be miserable by the end of the night. We’re going out with my crazy family and Tony Stark, that means comfortable shoes and no girdles. You will want a drink and something to eat later and you should be able to actually enjoy it.”

“So bossy,” she told him. But she took it off anyway.

“Jesus,” he said, “the straps have already left marks. They’ve gouged you. Burn that thing.”

“Really?” she said, looking at her shoulders. “Oh, that’s nothing. You should see the marks after, like six hours or something? One time, someone I knew wore two of them and had marks for a whole day after.”

“Two?” he said.

“One over top of the other,” Darcy said.”It’s supposedly a tv show stylists trick.” He shook his head.

She ended up changing into something looser and a pair of flat boots instead of heels. “Happy now?” she asked him. “This wrap dress is just a step above a bathrobe. It actually ties. It’s the comfiest fancy thing I own.”

“Yeah,” he said, “I’m happy, real happy.” He grinned.

“What?” she asked.

“This will be easy to take off later,” he said, caressing her shapewear-free belly.

“I thought you got bored sleeping with the same woman every night?” she asked him. She had thought they would bicker more. Instead, he was constantly touching her, pulling her into his lap, or running his fingers through her hair. It was like once he’d decided to touch her, he didn’t want to stop. It was so obvious, Tony had circulated a joke memo to the labs about groping on company premises. Now he was doing it in the apartment, too.

“Not bored yet,” he said. “I’ll keep you posted. You’ll know if you start getting on my nerves.”  He nuzzled her face. Darcy was sure he’d be over it eventually. He had to burn out, right? Maybe that was his thing, she thought, he went on sex sprees with women until he was sick of them and then the arguing started. Like eating Pixy Stix because they tasted so sweet until you felt queasy. She’d done that as a kid. There was a fine line of dyed sugar between awesome and total nausea.

They were making out on the couch when Jarvis said that Jack and Jane were waiting to go down to the garage with them. Tony had cars ready. “Tell them to go away,” Brock said. “Jack’s ten minutes early.” She laughed against his jaw. “What?” he asked her.

“We have to go. But your mother did say you were a very affectionate child,” she told him. “I didn’t know that meant I would spend all day being snuggled and petted. I need to get my lipgloss off your face, too.” She wiped at his face with a kleenex.

“Petted?” he said skeptically. “You think I’m petting you?”

“You let me use you as a human leaning board in Bruce’s lab today because my feet were tired and there were no chairs free,” she said. They were waiting on new chairs after Bruce’s last “Code Green” incident, poor thing. He was so embarrassed about it.

“A what now?” he asked.

“A leaning board. It was this old Hollywood movie thing, I’ll find you a picture. When the actresses costumes were too tight or delicate to sit in, they had these wooden stands they could slump against to rest on. See?”  She showed him a photo of Jean Harlow reading on one with her phone.

“Huh,” he said. “Looks kinda like a cross between a ladder and an ironing board. They couldn’t sit?”

“Nuh-uh,” she said, shaking her head. Jarvis broke in again to remind them Jane and Jack were waiting. Brock sighed.

“I’d rather stay here and have Chinese and watch terrible old movies with you in your damn sock monkey pajamas,” he muttered. “This is going to be a circus.”

“I know you’re implying something negative about _The Lady from Shanghai_ , mister, but you are wrong. That is a fantastic movie. Everyone but you says so,” she teased.

“I’m sure your WWII buddies like it, but I don’t know why Jack is such a traitor,” Brock said.

“Jane thinks Orson Welles’ shark monologue reminds him of home. He looked fascinated during the aquarium scene, too,” Darcy said, leading Brock towards the door. “He asked me if there were any other old movies with aquarium scenes, but all I knew was _Mr. Peabody and The Mermaid.”_

“Weird sea creature,”  Brock muttered.

“I’m going to tell Jack you called him a sea creature,” she said. He scoffed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leaning boards are a real thing: https://vpostrel.com/deep-glamour/leaning-boards-behind-the-scenes-support-for-classic-hollywood-costumes
> 
> The Lady from Shanghai is an incredible movie with Rita Hayworth and Orson Welles. This is the shark monologue: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GTQx-WuZW-M


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orchid Night, Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for your comments and kudos

The four of them rode the elevator down. Tony had helicoptered in the various Rumlows to the Tower, so nobody had to drive. He was actually considerate like that, especially where party comfort was involved. Brock’s mother and sister were waiting for them right outside the elevator. Angela gave Darcy a huge hug, enveloping her in a cloud of _Opium_ perfume and telling her how happy she was to see her. Fallon did, too. Darcy had a little pang of guilt when they both complimented her on the necklace. “I had no idea that old junk could look so nice,” Fallon joked.

“Hey, I like them!” Darcy said said. “It was very nice of your mom.”

“Oh, look at how sweet she is,” Angela said. There was a small convo about outfits as they waited in the garage.  Darcy had helped Jane pick out a really beautiful dress: a strapless cocktail dress covered in little blue and bronze sequins. It was all floaty chiffon and sparkle. “Jane, you look incredible, like you just stepped out of _Vogue_ , honestly. Doesn’t she?” Angela said to Fallon.

“She does,” Fallon said. “Very fancy. You look great, too, Darce. I like that print.” Darcy’s dress had pop art flowers on it. She’d bought it because it reminded her of Andy Warhol or something.

“Thanks,” Darcy said.

“So much cuter than the black dress you picked out the other day. I thought you were wearing that?” Jane asked Darcy.

“Nope, someone objected to my Spanx,” Darcy said, gesturing towards Brock with her thumb. He was standing over with Jack, Paul, and Jim as they were introduced to all the Avengers. Jim had kind of gone big-eyed when Natasha smiled at him. It was adorable.

“You’re telling her what to wear now?” Angela called to her son.

He came over and wrapped his arms around Darcy. “Ma, I wanted her to be comfortable,” he said. “That stuff is horrible. Doesn’t she look beautiful?” he said. “She’s wearing your medals, too.”

“I saw that,” his mother said, beaming.

“Oh, look, it’s Captain America and Sharon,” Fallon said, as Steve, Sharon, and Bucky got off the elevator. “Let’s go say hello,” Fallon said mischievously. Darcy grinned as she watched them head towards the trio. Fallon was definitely going to flirt with Steve. Or Bucky. Probably both.

“They’re just leaving?” Brock said in a strange voice.

“They want to go talk to the national icons,” Darcy said.

***

 

The evening seemed to be getting off to a weird start. Brock had gone all tensely quiet, like he had when Fal brought up Amy in New Haven. They were walking into the gardens when Darcy decided to say something. Darcy had a suspicion it was about either his mother or Sharon. Angela and Sharon had chatted amiably as they waited for the cars together and Brock had seemed weirdly bugged about it. Even Jack had noticed. Brock’s mood hadn’t improved, even with Steve, Sharon, and Bucky in a different vehicle. Darcy wasn’t going to let him be weird all night long.

She was trying to put some distance between them and the rest of their party, so they wouldn’t be overheard. Steve had crazy good hearing, so he had to be far ahead. Darcy could see his blonde hair in the moonlight and the gaggle of people around him as he walked up one of the paths to the conservatory. He looked like he was starring in _The Great Gatsby_ in his dark suit. Next to him, Sharon looked impossibly elegant in a slim gown with detailing at the waist and keyhole neckline. They were a perfect-looking couple, Darcy thought. At just that moment, Sharon turned and looked back at them, smile falling away. She was probably upset about Bucky, Darcy thought. Or maybe she’d noticed Brock giving her weird looks when she talked to his mother?

 

“Hold on,” she said, taking Brock aside. “What’s up with you?” she asked him in a low voice. “Are you going to tell me why you’re tense?” she asked.

“It’s nothing,” Brock said tightly.

“Bullshit,” she said. “You got a bee in your bonnet.”

“A what in my what?” he asked.

“It’s an old expression. Scott Lang loves it. His daughter says it all the time. She wants to be Bee Girl one day. What’s bothering you?” she asked. “Is it...” she hesitated, “Sharon?” she whispered as quietly as possible.

“Fuck no.”

“No?” Darcy said.

“My mother should have complimented you more,” he said suddenly. “I’m upset about it.”

“What? She did compliment me, you were talking to Paul and Jim. She said I looked beautiful and I was sweet and Fallon said I even made her old junk necklace look pretty,” Darcy said, elbowing him and grinning. “Are you joking?”

“Oh,” he said. “No, I’m not.”

“You gonna lighten up now?” she asked him.  “I can’t believe that bothered you. Oh em gee, it really did, didn’t it?” The line of his shoulders had immediately relaxed, like the tension was evaporating.

“Yeah,” he said. “I thought she was being rude to you. I was embarrassed. She’s not usually rude.”

“Nope,” she said. “I’m cool, Grumpy Cat.” She grinned at him. He stopped. “What?” she said.

“C’mere,” he said, sneaking her behind a tree. They were barely hidden before he started kissing her. “I shouldn’t have been distant on the way over,” he said. “I should have called my mother out instead.”

“Or you could have just let it go? Sing it with me, ‘let it gooooooooooo’?” she teased.

“Nope,” he said.  

“Ah,” she yelped when he pulled teasingly at the belt of her wrap dress. “No, no,” she said. “When you said you wanted to take this off later, I did not know you meant before we even got inside. Bad boy, no, no,” she scolded, flicking his hands away. He grinned.

“You wanna see those flowers, huh?”

“Yes,” she said, grinning in spite of herself. “But kiss me one more time before we go in?” They stayed outside longer than Darcy had planned.

  
***

The private orchid party was fantastic. The bar was open, the DJ was playing Carla Bruni, and everyone seemed happy. Bruce was having a sweet discussion about plant botany with a curator, so Darcy and Brock stepped over to a neighboring display of orchids. Natasha suddenly appeared next to Bruce, as slinky as a cat. Darcy blinked. How did she do that?

“What?” Brock asked Darcy.

“Isn’t it funny how Natasha can look bored and intrigued simultaneously?”

“Must be a Russian thing,” he said. “I knew a guy in Hydra named Vlad who made that face.”

“Vlad?” Darcy said.

“He was sort of Hydra, but also Russian mafia,” Brock said. “Had a brother who was a big crime boss called Anatoli.”

“Your stories are so weird, my dude.”

“Says the girl who has literal elf stories?” Brock teased. “Let’s ask the curator what this white one is?” Brock had caught Darcy admiring it. He thought she might like one.

 

Jack and Jane drifted off from the others to kiss in front of various exotic blooms. “This is incredible,” Jane said, gesturing towards a red and yellow orchid.

“I’ve seen more beautiful things,” Jack told her. He loved the line of her collarbones and her shoulders, revealed by the strapless dress. He thought she was an intriguing mixture of fierce determination and delicacy, like Audrey Hepburn had blown into his life one day. Carrying a welding torch and a stack of research papers, all ready to kick bullies in the shins and win Nobels.

“You are too charming, Jack Rollins,” she said.

“I try, love,” he said. Jack was dazzled by Jane. He kept trying to tell her, but he couldn’t quite find the right words.

 

Everyone was delighted by Brock’s mother, but she made a strong impression on a particular inventor-slash-billionaire playboy. “Oh my God, Tony Stark!” Angela cried. “I just remembered. You were robbed,” she told him. “Haven’t I said that, Fal?” she said, tapping Fallon on the arm.

“Uh-huh,” Fallon said. “Many times, Ma.”

“I was?” Tony said, looking at his pockets.

“Is she drunk?” Brock mouthed at Fallon. Fallon nodded.

“Free champagne,” she mouthed back. “Four flutes in.” Fallon held up four fingers and grinned.

“In 2003, they made Tom Cruise Sexiest Man Alive instead of you! It was your year, Tony Stark!” Angela said intensely. “I still think he bribed someone at that magazine.”

“Yeah, yes, I was robbed, wasn’t I?” he said, nodding. Tony proceeded to hit on Angela Rumlow throughout the night. He flirted a little with Fallon, but it was clear Angela had his heart. He started offering Paul _Indecent Proposal_ type sums to divorce Angela, so Tony and Angela could run off together. “A million dollars,” he said, “for you to let her run off to Maui with me?”

“No,” Paul said, laughing cheerfully.

“Two million?” Tony said.

“You think you’re the first man to play this game with me?” Paul said jokingly. “I took her to Paris and a Saudi prince asked for her hand in marriage for twenty-five million.”

“I could swing that,” Tony said thoughtfully. “Angie, what do you say?”

“The Saudi prince was too skinny to run away with,” Angela said. “I think he was a nineteen year old billionaire. Now, if he had been thirty...”

“Is Tony serious?” Jack asked.

“Probably,” Jane said.

“I think she might be good for him,” Bruce said. Natasha laughed.

“This is making you crazy, isn’t it?” Darcy asked Brock, surveying the scene.

“I’m having a great time, Lewis,” Brock said.

“Really?” she said.

“Mmm-hmm,” he said, kissing the edge of her ear. “I never knew practice flings could be so good.”

“Yeah?” she teased.

“So good,” he murmured.

“Darcy, come over here!” Angela called.

“Your mother needs me,” Darcy said.

“Fine, but I want you back,” Brock said. He watched Darcy walk away.

 

Brock went over to Jack. “How do I tell her, mate?” Jack asked him, once Jane had stepped over to ask a question of a curator.

“Tell her what?” Brock asked.

“That she’s the most wonderful person I’ve ever met and I want to rearrange my whole life for her?” Jack said.

“Poetry,” Brock suggested.

“Since when do you read poems?” Jack asked.

“I read. Lewis keeps poetry around,” Brock said.

“Yeah?” Jack said skeptically.

“I started with the Italian poets. Dante said something about the ‘love that moves the sun and the other stars’? Might be a nice start for an astrophysicist?” Brock suggested. He was looking at Darcy, talking animatedly to his mother.

“That’s not half-bad,” Jack said.

“I have a good idea now and then,” Brock said. Sharon tapped him on the shoulder.

“Can I speak to you?” she asked.

 

***

Darcy went to the bathroom with Fal and then emerged feeling overheated. She was going to step out into the courtyard to cool down, but then she saw Sharon and Brock having an intense conversation about something. Darcy decided she didn’t want to interrupt. Sharon looked really upset and Brock looked weird. “Look,” Darcy overheard him saying, “I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you, Sharon. I’m sorry. I really am.” He sounded very sad. More sad than Darcy had ever heard him.

She shut the door quietly, grabbed a champagne flute, and headed out into the courtyard via another set of doors. _He is still upset about her,_ she thought with a strange fluttering in her heart. Did he still love her? Want to reunite with her even? Sharon would never leave Steve, Darcy thought, but that didn’t mean Brock wouldn’t want her to. _Remember, practice fling, same page, same page,_ she repeated internally. She was so preoccupied with her casual fling mantra, she almost stumbled over a seated Bucky Barnes. He was hanging out on the more distant steps away from the building by himself, hidden by the incline and the dark. “Buck? You okay?” she asked.

“Hey, doll,” he said quietly. He looked a little rattled. “I’m having a bit of a night.”

“You wanna talk about it?” she asked.

“Nope,” he said.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll just sit with you, if you don’t mind?” She sat next to him.

“That’d be nice,” he said. “You avoiding somebody too?”

“Just saw Brock and Sharon having a talk,” Darcy admitted.

“You really like him, don’t you?” Bucky asked. “I see the way you look at him sometimes. It’s a soft look. It’s not just casual for you.”

“I’m not sure I can do casual,” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “I hope it works out, Darce.”

“Brock accused me of making big sad eyes at him once,” Darcy said.

“You probably learned that from Punk,” Bucky said. “He could always do big sad eyes, even when we were kids.” There was something ineffably tender in Bucky’s voice.

“I hope he hasn’t given you too many of them this week,” Darcy said comfortingly.

“I never minded his looks,” Bucky said softly. “You know, we grew up together, yeah? We did all these things together. To hear him tell it, I’m this big flirt, this Prince Charming. He wants me to be that for you.”

“Bucky, it’s okay if you’re never that for me, I swear. Okay?” she patted his arm. “I don’t expect anything like that from you.”

“Thanks, Darce,” he said. But he didn’t seem relieved.

“What is it, Buck?” Darcy asked. His eyes roamed around, finally settling on Steve and Sharon inside the conservatory. They could see them through one of the glass windows. Steve was smiling and leading a champagne toast with a small group of Stark people. He really did look like she’d imagined Jay Gatsby in college lit seminars, Darcy thought. Just beautifully handsome. Almost lit by a golden halo.

“I was never those things for the girls, Darce,” Bucky said in a low voice. “I like girls fine, but it was never that deep. It was all a show. I was charming for Punk. It was always for him. For him and him alone.”

“He doesn’t know,” Darcy said.

“Nope.” Inside, Steve was kissing Sharon’s hand. It looked very romantic. “When we were eleven, my parents gave him flannels as a Christmas present, ‘cause they were worried he’d freeze to death. He was so happy, he kissed me on the cheek. It’s still the only kiss that ever really mattered to me,” Bucky said, swallowing. “All the rest were fun, but not--not...”

“Meaningful?” Darcy offered tenderly.

“Real love,” Bucky said.

“Buck, he loves you,” Darcy said. “He loves you so much.”

“But he’ll never love me the way I want him to, will he?” Bucky asked carefully. “He doesn’t feel the same.”

“I don’t know. But if you don’t tell him, you’ll never know, either,” Darcy said.

“I’m scared, Darce. How do I tell him now?” Bucky asked. “I was too scared then because of the rest of the world, but now I’m frightened because he could say yes--or he could say no. How do I live if he says no?”

“I don’t know, Bucky,” Darcy said. Bucky sighed.

“I should get out of here,” he said softly. “This place is too damn romantic, doll.”

“Why don’t we go look at the azalea garden? I hear they’re blooming,” Darcy said. She took his metal hand and led him into the dark. Soon, they were wandering down a moonlit pathway lined with bursts of colors: fuschia, crimson, purple, and white, even coral.

“I didn’t know azaleas were red,” Bucky said softly. Darcy peered at a sign.

“Me neither. That one is an Autumn Fire? My grandmother had a big yard, she used to grow them, but she liked the hot pink ones,” Darcy said. “She said they matched her favorite Revlon lipstick, Cherries in the Snow.”

“Your grandma matched her flowers to her lipstick?” he asked.

“Her nails, too. Grandma Lewis loved that color. She was very dramatic and feminine, that’s where my Debbie gets it from,” Darcy said. At his befuddled expression, Darcy explained, “Aunt Debbie threw her shoe at a judge once. Thank God it didn’t actually hit him.” Bucky threw back his head and laughed.

“That’s where you get your sass from,” he said, grinning. "Can I talk to you, Darce? When things get difficult?"

"Of course," she said, gesturing towards a bench. "Start tonight. I think you'll feel better."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sort of envisioned Sharon in the beautiful dress and hairstyle Blake Lively wore in "Age of Adaline" for these scenes. Just slightly retro, completely elegant, perfect-looking next to Steve: https://pin.it/3g2nrq472wj6sb
> 
> Jane is wearing something Natalie Portman wore in a magazine once: https://www.natalieportman.com/image-gallery/?parentId=220341
> 
> And Darcy is wearing something bright and vivid that looks like an Andy Warhol Pop Art print: https://pin.it/kiczf6mqubcpdx
> 
> Revlon's Cherries in the Snow is a very old school, vivid, azalea pink. You gotta have guts to wear that lipstick! Go Grandma Lewis ;)


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orchid Night, II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your sweet comments and kudos!

Bucky walked back with her until they could see the conservatory. “I think I’ll go see that waterfall now,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. “Not ready to go back yet.”

“Okay,” Darcy said. “Please be careful walking alone.” Bucky snorted.

“You worried about somebody getting me, doll?” he said wryly.

“Well, you do have that terrifying knife,” Darcy said. He’d committed a bit of garden vandalism to put an azalea sprig behind Darcy’s ear. “But be safe for me, okay?” she said.

“I will,” he said. She watched as he melted into the shadows.

 

*** 

“How’d things go with Sharon?” Jack asked Brock when he saw him next. “What did she want to talk to you about?”

“Langley stuff. Not important. Have you seen Darcy?” Brock said. “I can’t find her. Fal says they were together, but then she said she was stepping out for air? No one’s seen her since.” The line of his jaw was tight.

“I thought she was with your sister, mate,” Jack said. “I’m sure she’s just behind a pile of orchids someplace.”

“Jane, where’s Darcy?” Brock said to the scientist when she walked up, martini in hand. “I can’t find her.” Jane had a sixth sense for finding Darcy sometimes.

“I don’t know--oh, wait, there she is,” Jane said, pointing. Darcy was walking up towards the conservatory and had stopped at the pools filled with lotuses and waterlilies. “She must have just decided to walk around?” Jane said.

“Thanks, Jane,” Brock said, giving her a grin and moving towards the door.

 

“I’m worried he still has feelings for Sharon,” Jack said fretfully. “She wanted to talk to him.”

“Jack, I love you,” Jane said crisply.

“You do?” Jack interrupted, beaming.

“But use your SHIELD brain. Look at them. What do you actually see?” she said.

Jack looked over at Sharon and Cap. “Sharon looks upset?” he said.

“Yup,” Jane said. “She keeps looking at Brock. She’s barely paid attention to Steve all night. Steve’s been too busy looking for Bucky to notice how distant she is. And what’s Brock doing?”

“He’s...making out with Darce on the sidewalk?” Jack said.

“Uh-huh,” Jane said. “He touches her all the time. Sharon’s not taking that well.” Sharon had turned and walked away. “I’ve noticed she pays attention to Brock, but he mostly ignores her.”

“I thought he was being physical with Darce to make Sharon jealous,” Jack said.

“Was Sharon around when they were making out in the lab and Tony blew that airhorn or when you said he was all over her during the movie at our place?” Jane prompted.

“Nooo,” Jack said, scrunching his forehead. “Well, I’ll be damned. Does he actually like Darce?” He started to laugh. “Have I been an idiot?”

“Right after we got here, he asked me about ideas for her birthday, too,” Jane said.

“Yeah?” Jack said.

“It’s five months away,” Jane said, laughing. “He wants us to all go to a concert. It’ll be nice, though, because you know Tony will spend days doing ‘over the hill’ stuff for her because she’s turning thirty.”

“What’s funny?” Fallon said, coming over to them. She was slightly tipsy.

“It’s just dawned on me that your brother really likes Darce,” Jack said.

“Duh, Crocodile Dundee,” Fallon said. “I’ve spent most of tonight shoving Ma at Tony so she won’t tackle Darce and start yelling about grandchildren. I don’t want her spooking him. He’s like one of those scared horses. He could bolt if we apply too much pressure. Be cool,” Fallon said.

“We’ll be low-key,” Jane promised, looping her arm in Jack’s.

“Where’d Cap go?” Fallon asked, sipping through her straw and looking around. “I want to pinch that adorably patriotic butt before the night is over.”

“You’re your mother’s child, Fal,” Jack said laughing.

There was a whoop in an adjoining wing and laughter. “Damn, did Ma get to Cap first? I’m gonna be pissed. I bet Tony $20 I’d do it before her,” Fal said.

 

***

Darcy had a lot on her mind when she returned to the party. “Lewis, where were you? I’ve been looking all over for you,” Brock said. He’d met her in the courtyard.

“I was talking to Bucky,” she said quietly. She had cried a little. They both had cried, actually.

“You okay? Did he do something that frightened you?” Brock said intensely, holding her shoulders and scrutinizing her, as if he expected there to be blood or bruising.

“No, no, we were just talking about his childhood, he was feeling a little down,” Darcy said. “It was sad. This place reminded him of back then.” She had to think of a reasonable-sounding excuse.

“Oh,” Brock said, looking relieved. “I was worried,” he said. “You just disappeared on me. Don’t be doing that.”

“You were worried?” Darcy asked. “Why?”

“It’s my job to worry about you. Full-time,” he said warmly. He slipped his arms around her and pulled her close, kissing her. “Mmm,” he murmured. “You smell good. But like...waffles?” His voice was quizzical. “What is that?” he asked

“My perfume is supposed to smell like vanilla ice cream and waffle cones,” she told him. He laughed.

“That’s cute, Lewis. Come inside and look at these orchids, there’s one you didn’t see that I think you’ll like,” he said.

“You found me a pretty flower?” she asked him, raising her eyebrows. She was surprised by how affectionate he was being. It was like whatever had gone on with Sharon hadn’t bothered him at all. His super double agent acting skills really were good, she thought.

“Yeah,” he said. “Then we’re gonna sneak over to this spot I found and make out.”

“Oh, really?” she said. “You don’t have anything important to tell me?” _Like, I’m still in love with Sharon,_ Darcy’s brain suggested. He grinned at her.

“You missed Ma pinching Cap’s ass, but I think Tony got it on his phone, don’t worry,” he said. “Also, you look luscious in that dress. Have I not said that enough tonight?”

He looked so weirdly happy for someone who’d just had a big moment with his ex, she decided to let the whole Sharon thing go. No use in ruining everyone’s night with some sort of public fight. They were casual. She could be casual. This, Darcy thought, was her first practice fling test. A freaking pop quiz. They still had to get through dinner with everyone. Tony had reserved a restaurant room somewhere.

 

*** 

It was a very nice restaurant, of course. So small and intimate that Tony had actually rented out the whole place. “It’s all on me, order whatever,” Tony said when they entered, throwing his arm around Angela. “Sit next to me?” Tony asked her sweetly.

“Of course I will, Tony Stark,” Angela said, beaming. Paul missed it. He was helping Sharon; her dress was floor-length and she’d stumbled over the door threshold.

“I think you’ve got a new dad,” Darcy said to Brock, laughing. He tilted his head and looked at Tony. His expression went a little funny. “What?” Darcy said.

“I have this fear that Tony Stark is close enough to her type to actually tempt Ma,” he said. “Although my father was handsomer.”  
“Of course he was,” Darcy said teasingly.

“Oh, I’m not kidding, Lewis. He was much better looking than me. When I was a kid, people used to just stare. I’ll have to show you pictures of Dad when he was young. Dark hair, dark eyes. Ma swears up and down that this model looks like him? Fal, what’s the name of the model that Ma swears looks like Dad when they met?”

“David Gandy, only dad had brown eyes,” Fallon said to Darcy.

“Ooooh, I know that guy. He’s the Dolce & Gabbana dude. I could see that,” Darcy said, eyeing Brock.

“Where?” he said, looking puzzled and half turning.

“Your freaking jawline, my dude,” she told him. He chuckled.

“I should be so lucky,” Brock said. They were both distracted by Angela laughing at Tony.

“Did your dad ever have the goatee?” Darcy asked, thinking.

“God, no,” Brock.

“Good,” Darcy said. At Brock’s raised eyebrow, she grinned. “Your mother will make Tony shave after the wedding,” she said.

“Bite your tongue, Lewis,” he said. Then he leaned down and kissed her.

 

“Where’s Cap?” Jack asked, as they took seats at the long table. Angela, Sharon, Tony, Paul, and Jim were at the other end. There were empty spaces for Steve and Bucky, then Natasha and Bruce sat next to the four of them.

“I believe he is talking to Yasha,” Nat said. That was her nickname for Bucky. They had a whole past as Soviet assassins together. He had been her trainer and, very briefly, her lover. Bucky had explained to Darcy in the gardens that she was his only other close relationship besides Steve, but Hydra had wiped his memory of most of it. Now they were just good friends. Natasha seemed to be having a thing with Bruce that none of them understood. Bruce had taken Darcy aside and explained that he’d resisted Natasha’s matchmaking attempts--and fake dating Darcy, natch--because Nat gave him the warm fuzzies. It was sweet. He had been nervous about mentioning his feelings until he and Nat got together, for fear it would jinx them.

“So, should we order without Capiscle and the Soviet Murderbot?” Tony asked Sharon.

“Sure,” she said, looking distracted. In fact, Darcy realized, she looked really unhappy. As soon as Tony stopped looking at her, Sharon’s whole face fell. She kept looking away. What was that about? Darcy flicked her gaze over at Brock. He was studying his menu. Was he just pretending to study it like a manual to avoid tipping anyone off that they’d had a...whatever that was? A talk? A fight?

“Lewis, you feel like scallops?” Brock asked her suddenly.

“Scallops?” she said.

“I’ve never actually had champagne risotto, either, but it seems like a you thing,” he told her.

“I haven’t either,” Darcy said.

“It’s very good,” Natasha said. They had ordered wine and were still discussing what to order when Steve came in.

“Buck doesn’t want to eat with us,” he told Sharon mournfully. “He’s gonna leave now.”

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Sharon said, looking weirdly upset still. They went to an adjoining room in the restaurant for privacy. Tony looked at them go.

“Anybody know what that’s about?” he said.

“No,” Jim said. “I’m Jim, by the way. Fal’s husband.”

“You talk!” Tony said. “I didn’t think these two let you.” He gestured to Fallon and Angela.

“Occasionally, they let us speak,” Paul said wryly. Jim shrugged and gazed sweetly at Fallon.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Tony said to Angela.

“He is an excellent son-in-law,” she replied.

 

They were all surprised when Bucky showed up. He flickered his eyes over the table, pausing for a fraction of a second at Darcy. She smiled at him. “Where’s Steve?” he asked.

“Through there,” Tony said. Bucky nodded and went through the door. “Why are they acting so weird tonight?” Tony wondered aloud. Angela tilted to her head to one side and looked suddenly canny.

“Love triangle,” she said. When Tony scoffed, she raised an eyebrow, “What?” she said. “Don’t they all live together? You think they didn’t have swingers during that war? You are a sweet child,” Angela said, patting Tony’s arm.

“Ma!” Fallon said, laughing, “you’re hilarious.”

“Nobody ever asks what Rosie was riveted on,” Angela cracked and that whole end of the table laughed.

Darcy really hoped her expression didn’t give her away. She couldn’t look at Brock. He sighed and she finally turned her face towards him. “I can’t decide between the scallops and steak? What if I get one and you get the other?” he asked.

“You’re not interested in the drama over there?” Bruce asked

“No,” Brock said, sounding very Grumpy Cat.

“He’s always less focused when he’s hungry,” Jack supplied.

“Jane’s the same,” Darcy said.

 

A second or two later, Bucky tore out of the adjoining room and left the restaurant. He looked upset. Steve was following behind him. “Buck!” he called. “Buck, what’s wrong?”

Sharon came out next, looking flustered. Her lipstick was slightly smudged. Darcy realized with a pang that Bucky had surprised them kissing. Steve had some of Sharon’s lipstick on his mouth. “Steve,” she said, “I don’t know what’s wrong, but let him have a minute?”

“Sharon, what did you wa---” Steve began, but she waved her hand dismissively.

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” she said.

“Sure,” he said, rubbing his neck. He looked at Darcy. “Darcybelle, do you know what that was about?” Steve asked.

“No,” Darcy lied. “Maybe it’s all the people?”

Brock looked at her with a skeptical expression. “All the people, huh?” he asked quietly. She shook her head at him.  
“Don’t,” she mouthed. He frowned.

“I’m going after him,” Steve announced, leaving the restaurant. “Don’t wait for us.”

“Well, that was interesting,” Bruce said. “I’ve never seen Barnes that upset.”

“Very interesting,” Natasha said, eyes narrowed.

“I think I’ll go, too,” Sharon said suddenly.

“No, stay,” Tony said, frowning. “Don’t rush off because of Capiscle’s buddy drama, Shar.” Tony considered Sharon--like Hope Lange--an honorary relative because their families had been involved in SHIELD and close friends during their childhoods. He introduced her to people as his cousin, actually. Seriously, unlike Darcy and Steve.

“No, thanks Tony, but I’m a little tired,” Sharon said. Tony fussed until she agreed to take home a meal and one of the Stark cars. He didn’t want her calling an Uber.

“Shar,” he said, “you’ll get other people’s germs on your nice dress,” Tony said. He ordered her something. Once her doggy bag was ready, Tony walked her out.

“You are a very good cousin,” Angela told him when he came back. “If we don’t get married, you can adopt my Fallon.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t get to pinch Cap,” Fallon said sadly.

“Once I’ve married your mother, you’ll have plenty of opportunities,” Tony said, winking.

“Bah, like I’ll spend any time on this continent when I have Stark money?” Angela announced. “I want a Greek island, Tony. Or an apartment in Paris. Fal and I will be too busy shopping,” she said.

Even Paul laughed at that.

“Why not ask for both?” Jim suggested, with a touch of wickedness.

“I knew I loved you, Jimmy,” Angela said. “Thank God one of my children had the intelligence to marry well. Do you hear that?” she called to Brock. “Settle down with her, you idiot, before someone else does! I don’t even care if you get married or not, just give me grandchildren.”

“Ma, for God’s sake,” Brock said.

“Oh, what? You’re embarrassed? I’ll be embarrassed when you’re fifty years old and trying to pick up women half your age in the club!” Angela yelled at him. Everyone laughed. Darcy covered her mouth to hide her church giggles, Tony was practically rolling on the floor, and even Natasha grinned a little. Brock groaned and put his face in his hands.

“C’mon, mate,” Jack said. “You’re not that far from fifty. Darce, you know he’s forty-two, right?”

“I do,” Darcy said. She rubbed Brock’s leg comfortingly. “Not that he looks a day over thirty-five.”

“You see how nice she is?” Angela said. She’d sloshed a little of her wine when she gestured.

“I really like you, Mama Rambo,” Tony said, once he’d stopped laughing. He’d put his chin in his hand and was gazing at her with a kind of boyish adoration.

“Oh, Tony,” Angela said mournfully, “I was going to be such a modern grandmother. I wanted the kids to call me Gigi instead of Grandma. I was going to take them to museums and shopping, you know? So, they’d learn the finer things in life. What am I going to do with the rest of my life?”

“You could start with dinner, hon?” Paul suggested.

“Bah,” Angela said. “My son is wasting all his beauty and potential for happiness. How can I eat, knowing that?”

“You sure?” Paul said tenderly.

“Yeah, try the shrimp fritters,” Tony said.

“That does sound good,” Angela said, sounding less sad. She and Tony ordered several plates of fritters for the table.

“And that’s my mother,” Brock muttered to Darcy as everyone was ordering. “I cannot wait to get home and be alone with you.”

 

***

The Rumlows were staying overnight in the Tower. Jack and Brock walked them up to the guest suites with Tony. Jane and Darcy, both tired, had said goodnight in the elevator and gone to their apartments to crash. It gave Jack the opportunity to say something to Brock as they rode back down to their usual floor. “You and Darce are getting on well,” he said.

“Sure,” Brock said. “We’re good.”

“You love her, don’t you?” Jack asked.

“What?” Brock looked incredulous.

“You’re talking about her birthday, Jane told me,” Jack said seriously. “That’s months away. You’re going to stay, aren’t you?”

Brock sighed. “You’ve got the wrong end of the stick, pal. I finished negotiations with Langley yesterday. I’ll be gone next month. I’m doing a few weeks of field qualifying and then going in special ops,” he said. “I want to do something nice for Darcy because I won’t be able to even send her a card once I leave,” he said. “No contact in special ops.”

“I can’t believe you’re just going to leave and disappear,” Jack said, shaking his head. He had gone a little pale. “Mate, Darce makes you so happy. You’re not going to even stay in touch with her?”

“Nope,” Brock said.

“Are you fucking with me?” he asked.

“No,” Brock said, “look, nothing could stay this good for anything more than a brief window of time. I’m leaving while Lewis still likes me, so we’ll have good memories.”

“Oh,” Jack said flatly.

“Don’t you get it? The reason things are good between us is because it’s temporary. That’s what makes it so perfect. We’re having a vacation affair, Jack,” Brock said.

“A vacation affair?” Jack asked.

“Remember when you were young and you went on vacation and the town seemed perfect? Much nicer than your hometown?” Brock said. “I used to want to move to the towns we visited in the summer. That's what this relationship is like: it's good because it's fleeting. There's no other explanation. There can't be."

"Oh, no," Jack said, with uncharacteristic sarcasm, "it's not like you could ever be compatible with someone. Not you."  
  
"That reminds me: once I’m gone, I won’t be able to ask you for a favor, either. I’d like you and Foster to set up Lewis on some blind dates,” Brock said. He reeled off a list of names.

“You want us to set her up with people?” Jack asked, incredulous.

“Yeah,” Brock said flatly. “I’m asking, aren’t I?”

“If you care so little about Darcy, why’d you even start?” Jack asked. He couldn’t keep a note of resentment out of his voice.

“Lewis asked me to have a fling with her. The other candidate was Barnes,” Brock said quietly. “Barnes is the last man I’d let near Lewis. You’ve seen what he can do.”

“That’s your excuse?” Jack asked. “You slept with her so Barnes wouldn’t?”

“Excuse? Do I need to remind you about John Lawson?” Brock asked.

“I’d forgotten,” Jack said with a small flinch. Bucky had attacked one of his Hydra guards. It had happened so quickly, they hadn’t been able to stop it. Lawson, badly injured, had been declared brain dead. Pierce had made the call to pull his ventilator and tell his family he’d died in the line of duty on a fake SHIELD assignment.

“Have you thought about how Jane would feel if Barnes snapped Lewis’s neck during a nightmare? Or she ended up like Lawson? When she asked me, that was the first thing I thought about. It’s my job to protect Lewis, so I’m protecting Lewis,” Brock said. “Simple as that.”

“So, all this time, you didn’t care about her at all?” Jack asked.

“The important thing is to keep Cap from putting her in danger by shoving her at Barnes. He’s clearly still unstable, based on tonight,” Brock said, ignoring Jack’s question.

"Does she know you're going?" Jack asked.

"I'll tell her," Brock said.

"You haven't even told her?" Jack asked, horrified.

“She knows I’m going, just not the end date,” Brock said. "I was just told my report date this morning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's perfume is Demeter's Vanilla Ice Cream.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raspberry eclairs and William Powell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos! Y'all are the best.

Steve spent several hours searching for Bucky, then finally gave up and went home. Sharon had wanted to talk to him about something. She was behaving weirdly, Steve thought, but then, so was Bucky. Sharon had kissed him in the restaurant and Bucky had practically backed out of the room when he walked in on them. Was he embarrassed? Had they overdone the affection? Steve thought they were a fairly discreet couple. In fact, sometimes he felt like Bucky and he had more casual affection than and Sharon ever had. But she was a reserved woman. Cool. Except last night she’d kissed him almost desperately. It had felt like a signal.

When he ran his keycard over the door and walked in, the apartment was dark. “Shar, honey?” he called. “You awake?”

There was no response. When he turned on the light in their bedroom, he realized it was empty and that some of Sharon’s things were gone. “Jarvis?” Steve asked. “Where is Sharon?”

“I’m very sorry, Captain Rogers, but Agent Carter wanted me to tell you that she is moving out for the foreseeable future. She is very sorry, but she needs some space.”

“Space?” Steve said sadly, sitting down on the bed.

“Yes, Captain,” the AI said, in an equally sad voice. “She does not wish to see you at present.”

“And Bucky?” Steve asked.

“Not on the premises at present. I am sorry,” Jarvis told him.

Steve sighed. He would never get used to the way he kept losing his best friend and the steely and alluring Agent Carters. He was too anxious to sleep, so he went to the gym to box.

 

***

“Hey, that you?” Darcy called when she heard someone enter the apartment.

“Yeah,” Brock said. She could hear him hanging up his jacket and dropping his keys. Then she heard the fridge door open and him moving around in the kitchen. He was carrying a bottled water when he came to stand in her bedroom doorway. “Hey,” he said. He grinned. “That’s nice. You look good, Lewis.”

“This old thing?” Darcy said teasingly. She was wearing a little chemise printed with ice cream cones.

“You wearing that for me?” he asked in a warm voice. “I’m flattered.”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself. It’s cotton, my dude,” Darcy said, laughing. “Not exactly wildly sexy lingerie.”

“Still. It’s very appealing,” he said. He sighed.

“What?” Darcy said, concerned when his face fell.

“There’s something I need to tell you. It’s difficult, Lewis,” he said, rubbing his jaw. He came and sat on the bed, stroking her bare arm gently. “I just got the call from Langley. They’ll take me.”

“When do you leave?” Darcy asked.

“Next month,” he said.

“Oh,” she said. “That’s soon.”

“Yeah. That’s not all. It’s a special task force, so I won’t be able to be in contact with anyone for awhile,” he said. “I need to disappear.”

“Define a while?” she asked.

“Nine to twelve months, maybe longer,” he said.

“A year? A whole year?” she said, stunned.

“Yeah,” he said. “They only want me for this one covert long-term project, not as a regular field agent like Sharon, so the conditions are different. I suspect I’ll be working with Fury some, based on what they’ve hinted. I’m thinking about having an encrypted chat with Phil tomorrow.”

“But if you’re gone a year or more, you won’t be able to visit Fallon if she has a baby, or see your mother, or be Jack’s best man if he and Jane decide to make it official,” Darcy said, horrified.

“Jack and I just had words in the elevator about it. He’s concerned that I’m hurting you, too,” Brock said.

“I think you should be more concerned that you might die not having seen your sister’s baby or talked to your mother in eight months. And how would they even know? Would they be informed?” Darcy asked. Her brain was running through a bunch of awful scenarios.

“I assume so. If Fury’s involved, he’d pass a message to someone like Natasha or Cap, regardless of whether it was approved or not. You’re more upset for Fal and my mother than yourself?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Wouldn’t anyone be?” Darcy asked. “Don’t you owe them a little more consideration? I mean, I’m not happy, but you don’t owe me anything, do you? You--you agreed to have this fling with me,” she said, swallowing and looking down, “but you never made me any promises. You sorta owe your mother for your life, Brock.”

“I do, don’t I?” he said, wryly. “She’s gonna be upset with me.”

“Can I still see her?” Darcy asked. “After you’re gone? I like your mom.”

“Of course,” he said. “She’d love that, Lewis. I’d appreciate it, too.” He rubbed her arm again.

Darcy flicked her gaze up at him. She’d been worrying her hands a little in her lap, hidden under the blankets. His expression was guarded, like he was waiting for her to yell at him. “What is it?” she asked. “You look funny.”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m just tired.” He sighed. “I was going to wait to tell you, but then I told Jack and that didn’t go so well. I have this feeling that Jane is gonna be pretty pissed at me, too.”

“She’ll forgive you,” Darcy said, with more confidence than she felt.

“And I’ll have to tell my mother and Fal, oh God,” Brock said.

“I won’t tell if you don’t want me to,” Darcy said.

“You’re an angel, Lewis,” Brock said. “I just need some time. Let her enjoy her flirtation with Tony.”

“Get in bed, goober.” She pulled back her blankets and he crawled in next to her.

“I’m going to miss this, Lewis,” he said softly.

“Please, you’re just hoping to get all up in my ice cream jammies,” she said, trying for lightness.

He laughed. But, unusually for him, all he wanted to do was cuddle her. He fell asleep almost immediately, his arms wrapped around Darcy’s waist. Darcy had trouble sleeping that night. She kept thinking of Sharon. A small part of her wondered if Brock was taking on this terrible new job to spend more time with the blonde agent.

 

***

The next morning, they all went to a fancy brunch Tony decided to throw for the guests. Brock stopped Jack and Jane outside the Avengers common room. “I’d appreciate it if you don’t mention my new job to my mother yet,” he said. “I want to let her enjoy today.”

“Does Darcy know?” Jack asked, crossing his arms.

“I told her last night,” Brock said quietly. 

Jack looked at Darcy, laughing with Fal and Angela inside the room. “She’s taking it well,” he said.

“She’s a good person,” Brock said. “I should go in, make sure she snags a waffle. Paul can eat his weight in waffles.” Jack watched Brock walk inside, stop and kiss Darcy and speak to his mother, then head over to the buffet line.

“I still think there’s something there,” Jane said to him. “Look at how he treats her.”

“He keeps claiming that it’s his job to take care of her,” Jack said. “That it’s all professional responsibility.”

“Yes, I thought it was super-professional when he was making out with her in the lab the other day,” Jane said dryly. “That was work-related French kissing.”

  


***

Darcy thought Brock would start distancing himself from her now that he knew that he was leaving, but instead he was practically glued to her. Since he and Jack appeared to be fighting, Brock convinced Darcy to spend all her free time with him.

“Darce,” Jane said, taking her aside, “are you sure this is a good idea, if he is leaving soon?”

“Why not?” Darcy said. “It was always a fling, Jane.”

“Only a fling?” Jane said pointedly.

“Sure,” Darcy lied. She hadn’t talked to Jane about her suspicions about Sharon and Brock having a moment, but something was clearly going on.

Steve had told her that Sharon was avoiding him, too. She’d actually moved out of the Tower the night of the restaurant incident. She was staying at another Stark condo. It was almost like she didn’t want to run into Brock. It was totally weird. Darcy wondered if Brock had actually made a pass at Sharon at orchid night? Poor Steve was dealing with Sharon virtually ghosting on him while Bucky had decided to go on a long bike trip--alone.

  


***

Brock had gone to a French pastry shop for Darcy’s favorite non-Dave eclairs and Napoleons. He was almost to the door when he saw a familiar face on a nearby bench. “Hello,” he said.

“Can I talk to you?” Sharon Carter asked him.

“Sure,” Brock said, sitting down.

“I’m sorry I was angry with you the other night. I was...emotional,” she said.

“It’s okay,” Brock said. “I should have told you I was still alive.”

“You know I moved out of Steve’s apartment?” she said softly. He nodded.

“Sharon, I meant it when I said I was sorry about how things ended between us. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or damage your relationship with Cap,” he said. “I’m leaving for Langley in a few weeks anyway.”

“That’s why I’m here,” she said. “I’m going back to Virginia, too. It’s over between me and Steve. I’d like to try again.”

“Try again?” Brock asked.

“I miss you,” Sharon said. “I want to be in a relationship with you again. Will you give it a chance?”

 

***

 

Darcy--having sent Brock out for eclairs so he’d stop hanging onto her and staring lovingly at her boobs--said goodbye to Bucky in the Tower’s garage. “Buck,” she said, after she’d released him from a long hug, “tell Steve. Tell him soon. Don’t wait.”

“What, you think Sharon’s really ditching him?” Bucky said. “I don’t believe it. When I walked in on them kissing in the restaurant, it just really rattled me, Darce. I was gonna tell Punk, but I couldn’t. I chickened out and ran. I couldn’t tell him when they were so happy. But I’m afraid she knows how I feel.”

“Why?” Darcy said.

“It had to be written all my face,” Bucky said. “The disappointment. I thought he was alone. God, Darce, I can’t stand looking at him when he’s sad. I just want to hold him. But I can’t believe she’s just gonna leave him.”

“I dunno, Buck. There’s something going on between her and Brock,” Darcy told him.

“Really? You think so?” Bucky asked.

“At first, I sort of wondered if Brock hit on her at orchid night and that’s why she left, but if so, why wouldn’t she see Steve away from the Tower?” Darcy mused. “I feel like she’s ghosting on Steve for whatever reason.”

“Who would leave Punk?” Bucky said, sounding baffled.

“You are so meant for each other,” Darcy told him, putting her hands on her hips and grinning. “He talks about you the exact same way. Do you know what he said when he found out I knew he was trying to get us together?”

“What?” Bucky said, rubbing his long hair.

“His exact words were ‘what’s the hold up, Darcybelle?’ Steve can’t imagine someone not wanting to be with you,” she told him. “That’s how much he thinks you’re the bee’s knees, Bucko.” He chuckled.

“You gonna start bossing me around, too, doll?” he asked.

“If I have to smush your faces together like Barbie dolls, I will, James Buchanan Barnes,” she said, wagging her finger at him. “Don’t make me try. Tell that man the minute he’s single.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky said, looking nervous. She watched him depart on his bike and then went back upstairs, mentally wondering if she could set Steve and Bucky up on a blind date on the rooftop gardens if things got too dire to go on. That was probably too meddlesome, right? One day, she’d have to ask Jane. Change the names to protect the innocent, she thought, and get Janey’s opinion.

 

***

When she got back to the apartment, Brock had returned. “I’ve got raspberry eclairs and some damn William Powell movie is on, _Fragolina_ ,” he said.

“Your resentment of William Powell is absurd,” Darcy told him. “He is a delightful and talented man.”

“I’ll watch his damn movies if I get to sit next to you,” he said. “Where were you?”

“Saying goodbye to Bucky,” she said.

“Oh?” he said, sounding oddly tense.

“What?” she said. “You get weird whenever I mention Bucky.”

“I worry about you dating him when I’m gone, honey,” he said seriously.

“Honey?” she said, putting her hands on her hips. He’d never called her honey before.

“Don’t distract me with that pose,” he said wryly. “It’s very tempting.”

“Well,” Darcy said, trying for a bit of radical honesty, since Brock was about to drop off the face of the earth anyway. “Mark it off your list of worries, Rambo. I’m never dating Bucky.”

“You sure about that?” Brock said, raising an eyebrow.

“Bucky’s in love with Stevie,” she said. Brock whistled.

“In love with Cap, huh?” he said. “Really?”

“Wouldn’t have me if I walked up to him dressed entirely in whipped cream,” Darcy said. Brock looked at her and gave her a slow grin.

“I would,” he said. “That’s why you and him have been off whispering in corners?”

“Uh-huh,” she said, “but you can’t mention it to anybody, he hasn’t even told Steve yet.” He nodded and looked relieved.

“Thanks,” he said seriously. “I really did worry.”

“No worries, mate,” Darcy said. “You want popcorn?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said. Once they settled on the couch, he slid her into his lap and nuzzled her neck. “Lewis?” he said.

“Yeah?” she asked. She was going to miss his touch. It was weird that he still wanted to touch her so much.

“What the hell do people see in Cap anyway?” he asked, incredulous.

“He looks like the version of Jay Gatsby I imagined in my Jazz Age literature seminar and has those nice muscles?” she said. “All muscly.” She wiggled in his lap.

“Now you’re just teasing me,” he complained, rubbing her hips. “Thank God old movies are shorter.”

 

“Hey,” Brock said, “I have something for you.” They were cuddling in bed that night. He’d practically dragged her to the bedroom as soon as the William Powell movie ended.

“Is that what they’re calling it now?” Darcy joked. “Again?” He laughed and kissed her neck.

“This is a present, Lewis, but I’ll give you some more of that, too. Hold on,” he said, getting up and leaving her bedroom. He seemed to like sleeping in her room. He’d even stopped making jokes about her LED candles. It helped that they’d knocked some over fooling around and not even had to stop. Brock was Team LED now.

He came back with a little box. “Don’t get too excited. This isn’t fancy,” he said. “You’ve just been nice to my mother and she gave you those ugly things, so Jane helped me get you something fun to apologize, okay?” he said. “Just a small thing. That was before she decided she hated my guts.”

“She doesn’t hate you--oh,” Darcy said, opening the box. There was a necklace with two tiny charms: a latte and a tray of eclairs. It was really cute.

“It’s some sort of clay thing? Jane said you liked them?” Brock said.

“Polymer clay,” Darcy said, nodding. “People make realistic miniature charms out of them.” Jane and Darcy had some matching Pop Tart earrings already. She suddenly felt all weird. Her eyes welled up with tears.

“Oh God,” he said, “you hate it, don’t you? You think it’s too cheap? I’ll send it back. Just forget all about it.”

“No, no,” Darcy said, clutching the box tearfully. “I _love_ it.”

“You do?” he said, sounding surprised.

“It’s adorable. It’s very sweet and it’s exactly what I’d pick for myself,” she said. “I’m just a little emotional. It’s probably PMS,” she joked.

“You like it that much?” he said wryly. “C’mon, tell me what’s wrong?”

“This is perfect for me. I like little cute things like this better than, like, diamonds or whatever,” she told him. “I like my bag made from recycled coffee bags better than, like, a Michael Kors handbag, too.”

“And?” he said.

“People never buy you the things you want, they buy you things they think you should want or they want,” she told him. “That’s why I got into coffee mugs. It’s one of the few things I could ask for from relatives and boyfriends that would be reliably fun, not stuffy. Ian would never buy me this. He’d think it was tacky. He’d buy me an expensive gold necklace that was way too formal for me and then be resentful because it’s not something I’d wear to work, you know?” Darcy wasn’t a yellow gold person.

“So, I did good, but you’re still crying?” Brock asked, perplexed.

“You’re not actually my boyfriend, though, are you? We’re just having a fling,” she said. “Why does the guy who’s all “I’m just passing through, ma’am” know me better than people I was serious about?”

“Hey,” he said, “passing through? What does that mean?” He frowned.

“You know, like in westerns? Guy shows up, says he’s just passing through, is convinced to save the day, rides off at the end? There’s always a little boy or woman who watch him ride off into the sunset ‘cause he can’t be tamed or something?” she said. “Like John Wayne?”

“John Wayne, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Well, I am a trained federal agent, Lewis. I’m very observant,” he said, leaning in to kiss her. “You really like it?”

“Yes, it’s so cute. Like freaking adorable. And they actually look like Dave’s eclairs? How sweet is that?” she said. He chuckled.

 

***

She wore it the next day and was so happy about it that it must have made an impression on Brock. First, he left a little bracelet with a single heart-shaped waffle charm by her bed. Next, she found a pair of tiny cannoli earrings on her desk one afternoon and started to laugh. “Oh my god, these earrings are so cute,” she said. Jane came over and peered at them.

“Super cute. But Darce, why is he buying you presents now?” she asked.

“No idea, but these are adorable, right?” she said. “It’s not like they’re super expensive, I think they’re about ten bucks. I guess he’s trying to be nice before he goes?” She put them on.

 

Jane exchanged glances with Jack once Darcy had gone to find him in the breakroom. “Any idea what that’s about?” Jane asked him.

“He’s either in love with her and deeply in denial or has spent so much time in Hydra that he’s actually developed a split personality?” Jack offered.

“Both of those are exceptionally sad,” Jane said. “What should we do?”

“Nothing,” Jack said.

“Nothing?” Jane said, sounding surprised.

“I have a theory, love,” Jack said.

“Oooh, based on data?” Jane said. She was thrilled whenever Jack talked Science! Lingo with her.

“More instinct, darl,” he said. “I think he’ll miss her most when he’s gone? So, we should let him go and then he’ll boomerang back once he realizes everything he’s lost.” Jane giggled. “What? It’s not a bad theory,” Jack said.

“You said boomerang,” Jane said, laughing. “Boomerang!” She kept muttering it to herself and giggling. Jack looked up at the ceiling.

“Jarvis, mate, please don’t play that clip for Tony, all right?” Jack asked.

“I will respect your wishes, Agent Rollins,” the AI said politely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't seen polymer clay, people make tiny, realistic food charms out it: cupcakes, cakes, little macarons. Its super cute and inexpensive. 
> 
> Darcy's necklace: https://www.jilliciouscharms.com/products/eclair-and-starbucks-coffee-necklace
> 
> The little cannoli earrings: https://www.jilliciouscharms.com/products/cannoli-earrings


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffee and conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all the kudos and comments :)

Darcy swung the door to the break room open and found Brock filling up several coffee mugs (and one green tea for Bruce). “Hey, dude, are you doing my job now?” she teased.

“I’m letting you rest. Lewis,” he said. “I kept you up late last night.”

“Somebody was up,” she joked. “I was mostly horizontal. By the way, I love my cannolis,” she told him, touching her ear.

“Good,” he said. “I thought you might.” He kissed her on the nose.

“Oh em gee, you’re turning into Mr. Cute over here,” she said. He rolled his eyes.

“Am not,” he said. “I’m a terrifying federal agent, remember?”

“Please, you’re a huge snuggly softie underneath that crusty exterior,” she told him. He smirked.

“I like snuggling with you,” he said. “Hey, I’ve got an idea: let’s do dumb touristy things this week,” he suggested.

“Dumb touristy things?” Darcy asked.

“You know, visit any landmarks you haven’t seen, go to a museum, or that cafe from _You’ve Got Mail_ you’ve always wanted to visit?” he said. “What do you say?”

“Yes,” Darcy said. “Sounds like fun. Let’s ask Jack and Jane to come with us for at least one thing, though? I don’t want you and Jack being all sad besties before you go, okay? You gotta fix this.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But I’d much rather be with you. Alone.”

 

***

Sharon met Steve in a coffee shop. “Shar, did I do something wrong?” he asked sadly. He gave her that sweet, sad face he could do so well. “I’ve always felt like maybe we just weren’t connecting because of the age difference and Peggy, but you stayed, so I thought it was just me feeling out of place?”

“I know,” Sharon said. “I felt it, too.”

“Could I have been nicer? Done something different, doll?” Steve asked.

“No, Steve,” Sharon said. “You’ve always been great. I feel really guilty actually. There’s somebody else.”

“Is it Bucky?” Steve offered. “Because if it is Shar, I understand. You two could be real happy. He left on a roadtrip….”

“No!” Sharon said, grinning and shaking her head. “It’s someone else totally. I’ve had feelings about him for a long time. Before you and I met. We lost touch and I thought I’d never see him again. Steve, I’m not in love with Bucky.” She patted his hand. “You need to think about that some, Captain Rogers.”

“Whoever he is, he’s very lucky to have you, Sharon,” he told her. “Wait, think about what?” Steve asked, confused.

“That you automatically default to assuming everybody loves Bucky,” Sharon said gently. “Steve, I’ve always felt like there was...more there between you and Bucky, if you opened yourself up to it? The way you two look at each other? I’ve never seen two friends look so romantic together.”

“Oh,” Steve said.

“I’m going to go now,” Sharon said. “Thank you for being so understanding, Steve. You’re a good person. You deserve to be happy, too.” She kissed him on the cheek.

 

He was still sitting in the coffee shop, thinking about Bucky when Sharon left to move all her things out of the Tower. He smiled gently at her as she walked away. “Did you want another coffee, sir?” a passing barista said, having recognized him. Steve said yes and even signed a few autographs for the employees. “How are you today?” the barista said, bringing him another raspberry chocolate latte. Darcy had gotten Steve addicted to syrupy coffee beverages. People were really charmed when Captain America ordered giant-sized mint chip frappuccinos, for some reason.

“You know,” Steve said, smiling at the barista, “I think I’m going to be okay. That’s a nifty thing you’ve done with your hair, I recognize those,” he said. She had dyed blue hair done up in little victory rolls.

“Oh my God, thank you!” she said. “Can I take a selfie with you?”

“Of course,” Steve said.

 

By the time he finished his second coffee, his third muffin, and at least a half-dozen selfies, Steve was smiling. He picked up his phone.

 

**Kid from Brooklyn:** Darcybelle, can you tell me where Bucky went?

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Upstate, but I think he wants some space? [virtual map link]

**Kid from Brooklyn:** Uh-huh. Sharon and I are over.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** I’m so sorry, Steve.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** It’s okay. Things have been a little awkward between us for awhile. I thought I was just a bad boyfriend, you know? Too old. Turns out she felt the same. She made a suggestion that I go talk to Bucky.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** You’re going to go get him?

**Kid from Brooklyn:** Yup. And tell him that I love him. I don’t know how I’ve been in denial this long. I just hope he feels the same way.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** OH THANK GOD. HE DOES! HE DOES! [kissing gif]

**Kid from Brooklyn:** You made a gif of me and Buck kissing that quickly?

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Stevie Wayne, the internet made that YEARS ago. Everyone ships you as a couple and wants you to date and get married and have little adorable surrogate babies. Your swimmers still work, right? You did kinda freeze ‘em.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** Slow down, Darcybelle, I don’t know if he’ll even want to go on a date with me.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Grandpa, please. I’ve been listening to him mope and make sad puppy eyes about you.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** I guess we did go to the movies a lot back when FDR was president? You think those counted as dates?

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Oh em gee, you poor elderly children need my help. Jane and I will plan you some date-like excursions. We’re great at that.

**Kid from Brooklyn:** I’d appreciate that, sister-cousin.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** [photo]

**Kid from Brooklyn:** That’s a very cute photo of you and Jane’s happy dance, doll.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** I’m trying to rope in Jack & Bruce, too.

  


***

“Oh em gee, I’m so excited!” Darcy said, doing a little dance in the breakroom. She was refilling her coffee.

“How much caffeine have you had today?” Brock asked her wryly.

“Shut up!” Darcy said, doing jazz hands. She was buzzy with excitement. Brock chuckled. “You don’t understand, this is the conclusion of a seventy year tragic romance, my dude. They have been in love since before D-Day and all these awful things happened to them. Heartbreaking separations, getting frozen to death, it’s like a nineteenth century novel with a science fiction twist. I thought it would never happen.”

“Yeah?” he said, rubbing his jaw and grinning at her evident happiness.

“I mean, if this was an Edith Wharton novel, they’d end up married to other people and secretly pining for each other, you know? Thank goodness they can get married now,” she said. “Don’t you think that’s like the most miserable fate? I always felt really sorry for Winona Ryder in _The Age of Innocence._ Her husband’s secretly in love with her cousin Michelle Pfeiffer and she knows. Ugh! It’s too painful to think about.” Darcy poured in her cream.

“Being secretly in love with Michelle Pfeiffer?” Brock said, raising an eyebrow. She swatted at him.

“No, being with one person and wanting someone else,” she said. “You know what I mean?” she asked.

“I have a feeling I’m going to find out,” Brock said in a low voice. He wrapped his arms around her waist.

“What?” Darcy said.

“I’m going to be in some really miserable place with other people, wishing I was with you,” he said. “Probably getting shot at. Mmm,” he said. “I’m even going to miss your silly waffle smell.”

“Waffles are not silly. They are a delicious breakfast food,” she told him. “I don’t know why you even want to go, Tony pays you enough to support a bonkers hobby so you can get your fix skydiving or snorkeling with sharks or whatever nonsense it is that adrenaline junkies do.”

“Oh, so you think I should stay here and take up paintball?” Brock said wryly.

“Jack would go with you,” she said. “You could do those marathon things where people do the running and the swimming and the biking all in one day?”

“Triathlons?” he said, still holding her. She shuddered.

“It sounds awful,” Darcy said.

He laughed. “And just mooch off of Tony’s generosity?” he asked her.

“Or do some other job, like training SWAT teams?” Darcy said. “Work for the New York office of some federal agency? You would be close to your family.”

“You think families are important, don’t you?” he asked softly.

“Of course,” she said, pretending to sip her coffee casually. “The ones you get and the ones you make. Jane’s my family, just like Jack’s yours. I can’t imagine just dropping out of her life.”

“What about us?” Brock asked quietly. “Would you want to keep seeing me?”

“Yeah, of course,” Darcy said, “if you want to, I want to.”

“What happens when we have our first fight?” he asked.

“Makeup sex?” Darcy said brightly.

“Oh God, don’t tease me, Lewis. I’ve already signed the paperwork at Langley,” he said, sighing. “They’re expecting me to be there.” She turned her head to look at him.

“So, that’s a no, then?” she said. He shook his head.

“You still feel like going to the Nights at the Museum thing?” he asked her quietly. “I can give our tickets to somebody.” They were doing this museum event with Jack and Jane.

“No, we’ll go,” Darcy told him, turning and patting his shoulders. “Nothing’s changed, right?” she asked. He hugged her and kissed the top of her head.

“You never asked me to stay before,” he said quietly in her ear.

“No, you’re right,” she said against his neck. “You’d get antsy eventually and we’d fight. You’d be unhappy.”

“Dammit, Lewis, stop being so perfect,” he said, “I’m very sad I won’t get to have makeup sex with you, you know that, right?” He rubbed her lower back tenderly.

“Sure, you are,” she said sarcastically.  He smiled at her.

"I am," he said. "I think you'd eventually hate me and it would break my heart when you left me for somebody better."

"Please," she said, rolling her eyes. "Very smooth. Remember that I'm staying in touch with your family and your sister has told me all your Casanova moves. The whole 'It's not you, it's me,' is the oldest trick in the book." She shook her head at him. "Oh, wait, did you want me to be mad at you now?” she asked suddenly. "Like, pretend mad for the makeup sex?" He chuckled.

"How much coffee did you drink?" he asked. "Tell me the number of cups, Lewis."

"How about a rough estimate?" she counter-offered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I've never had a raspberry chocolate latte and now I want one. Is that a real thing? --she says, having eaten raspberry jam today.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night at the Museum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing. Thanks for your comments and kudos!

The science museum’s special night event was a dinner and a sleepover. “I cannot believe adults pay to sleep in a museum, mate,” Jack said to Brock. “But Janey’s happy. I think that qualifies as ecstatic.” Jane was wandering around, beaming, at various exhibits. She’d even started talking about seeing if Tony could slot her in as a trustee somewhere, so she could help out on exhibits as a hobby.

“You missed Lewis when she saw the big dinosaur,” Brock said jokingly. “She made a noise only dogs can hear and tried to put her sleeping bag by his feet.”

“Bet that curator wasn’t happy,” Jack said. They’d already had a run-in with him when Jane had told him a plaque was incorrect. Of course, he’d apologized profusely when he realized he’d just been snooty to _the_ Dr. Jane Foster, celebrity astrophysicist.

“It was fun watching him sweat when he realized who she was. Lewis took pictures,” Brock said. He sighed. He was going to miss this job. It was the least stressed he’d been since before he enlisted.

“What, mate?” Jack asked. Jack had stopped holding his grudge somewhere around the time Brock told Jack that he and Lewis had bought the four of them tickets.

“It’s nothing,” Brock said quietly.

“Sure,” Jack said. “You’ve always got that face on, like a dingo stole your baby.”

“What?” Brock said.

“A long face,” Jack said.

“You stole that from a damn Meryl Streep movie,” Brock grumbled.

“Jane says it now when her experiments go tits up,” Jack said, grinning. “It’s cute as a koala’s nose.”

“Jesus,” Brock said, shaking his head.

“Don’t pretend to be all cynical with me. Yesterday, you left Lewis earrings in the shape of those, uh, toffee apples,” Jack said.

“Candy apples,” Brock corrected. “In this country, we call ‘em candy apples.”

“Uh-huh. How you going to react when someone else is calling Lewis his candy apple?” Jack asked.

“I won’t be here,” Brock said.

“Where will you be, mate?” Jack asked quietly. Jane and Darcy were looking at some sort of historic telescope.

“Being miserable, wherever I am,” Brock admitted.

“Why not stay?” Jack said.

“Because in a choice between being miserable myself or being that boyfriend who makes Lewis miserable, I pick my own misery. She can be happier with some nicer guy,” Brock said. He watched Lewis smile at someone else.

“Your misery, mate,” Jack said neutrally. He was trying to play it cool, in hopes that Brock would come around on his own.

 

“Get over here, Rambo,” Darcy called. Brock left Jack standing there, still slightly perplexed about is partner’s stubbornness.

 

***

Steve was looking for Bucky in a small town upstate. He drove down Main Street and then spotted Bucky’s bike parked in front of a diner. Steve parked next to him and went inside. When the bell on the door jingled, Bucky looked up. “Hey, Buck,” Steve said, smiling gently. Bucky nodded, pushing his hair out of his eyes. His metal hand clenched at the baseball cap he’d set on the tabletop. Steve recognized the signs of anxiety as he slid into the booth.

“Hey, Punk,” Bucky said. All his words seemed to be underlined with a sigh. “You heard from Sharon yet?” he asked Steve.

“Yeah, we talked,” Steve said. A waitress came by and Steve ordered a burger and fries. He flirted amiably with the waitress and then turned back to Bucky. “Had a nice talk. She’s met somebody else, from her past. They reconnected. So, she’s moving her stuff out now,” Steve said.

“You’re just letting her go?” Bucky said, incredulous.

“She loves somebody else,” he said, shrugging. “I want her to be happy.”

“I can’t believe she’s leaving you. You?” Bucky said. Steve chuckled.

“I thought she might be leaving me for you, actually. She seemed to find that funny,” Steve said, grinning slyly.

“Funny?” Bucky said sharply. “What’s that mean?”

“Something about me assuming everybody’s in love with you. Her, Darcybelle, you know,” Steve said. “I was kind of stupid, wasn’t I?”

“No,” Bucky said stubbornly. “Why would you call yourself stupid? Did she call you stupid?” He felt a reflex desire to defend Steve.

“Oh, I think being in love with your best friend for seventy years and not realizing it is the definition of stupid,” Steve said quietly.

Bucky flicked his eyes sideways. “What are you saying, Punk?” he asked quietly.

“I love you. I’ve been an idiot and I love you,” Steve said, beaming. “Will you have me?”

Bucky exhaled. When he looked up at Steve again, it was like the years had fallen away. “I think I could tolerate you for a few more decades,” he said, smiling. Steve reached over and put his hand over Bucky’s metal one.

“Good,” he said, “because I’m not losing you again. You’re going to be sick of me.. Annoyed by all my old man habits.”

“Old man habits? You take up chewing tobacco and crosswords, Punk?” Bucky said, grinning wildly. He was expecting Steve to say yes and then pretend to. It was a Steve sort of prank.

“Oh, I could learn lots of things. Take up plenty of new interests,” Steve said, his tone growing wicked. “You wanna learn with me?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “I do.”

 

***

The two of them wandered around some of the science exhibits, holding hands. Darcy dragged him into one room. “Oooh, it’s the rock room!” she said.

“The rock room?” Brock asked.

“Gems and crystals,” she said.

“It’s like the museum version of a hippie store,” he said wryly.

“I bet they could do meditation workshops in here,” Darcy said. “I should tell Jane that, in case Tony gives them gobs of money so she’ll be a trustee.”

“Shh,” Brock said. “I’m a afraid a team of curators will ambush us if you keep saying that.”

 

“Come kiss me in this alcove,” Brock said to Darcy a few minutes later, after they'd looked around. “I resent that we’re spending one of our last nights together in separate sleeping bags,” he grumbled. “I want to touch you.”

“So cranky, Grumpy Cat,” she teased. Once they were out of view, he slid his hand between her thighs. “Oooh, that’s nice,” she said. He’d made sure his hands were warm.

“Lewis, I love you,” he said suddenly. “I want you to know that, no matter what you hear after I’m gone.” He looked at her intently, waiting.

“What am I going to hear?” Darcy asked. The muscles in his face went tight and he took his hand away from her leg.

“Are you going to say it back?” he asked. His expression was unreadable. “Or do you not feel the same?”

“If you really love me, stay,” she said. “Tell me you’re staying and I’ll tell you how happy I am?” she offered. “How you make me feel,” she said, touching his face. “We’re good together.” He closed his eyes for a second.

“Lewis, you know I can’t,” he said. He sighed and opened his eyes again, looking away.

“I love you, too. I don’t care if we fight, I don’t care if we end up breaking up,” she told him. “I want to try. Stay a little longer. We can play it day by day, if that’s easier for you?” He shook his head.

“No,” he said.

“No?” Darcy asked him.

“I’ve made commitments to people at Langley,” he said. “I said yes to them before I knew you might want me to stay.”

“Bullshit,” she muttered. “You’re using that as an excuse to avoid having a feeling.”

“See? We’re fighting already,” he said. “In the rock room.”

“Fine,” she said, putting her arms around his neck. “You win this one,” she told him, nuzzling his face. “No more fight.” He must have been surprised by her response, because he froze.

“I need a minute,” he said, disentangling himself from her. He left her standing next to a hunk of glittering amethyst that was taller than her.

 

***

 

Bucky and Steve checked into a little hotel. Bucky was holding Steve--he’d always wanted to hold Steve this way--when he sighed happily and leaned his head against Steve’s shoulder.

“A little different from when we were kids and used to nap together when it was freezing, huh?” Steve said.

“You’re not quite as skinny,” Bucky said wryly. “But your feet are still colder than the rest of you.” Steve laughed.

“Do you remember how we used to curl up under the covers and talk about how we’d be pirates or soldiers?” Steve said. “And daydream about buying steak and heavy coats?”

“Uh-huh,” Bucky said. He grinned up at Steve. “You want me to buy you a steak dinner, Punk?” he asked in a teasing, gravelly tone, kissing the center of Steve’s chest.

“Why do I feel like you’re going to end up buying me a mink coat for Christmas?” Steve said, delighted. Offering a girl a mink and a fancy dinner had been the slick move in the pictures when they were kids.

Bucky scoffed. “It won’t be real mink, Darcy’d kill me,” he said. “People don’t wear fur no more. But you are pretty enough to deserve a steak dinner and a mink, Punk. I always thought you were pretty. Had the nicest eyelashes of anybody I know.”

“Shut up,” Steve said affectionately. “God, I love you.”

“Uh-huh,” Bucky said. “I’m real lovable.” He trailed a line of kisses down Steve’s belly.

***

 

“Where’s Brock?” Jack said to Darcy when she found them.

“Gone,” she said. “First, he said that he needed a minute, then he texted me to say he was talking a walk for a little while,” Darcy said.

“He did a Harry Holt,” Jack said grimly. “I’m sorry, Darcy. He does this.”

“It’s okay, Jack,” Darcy lied. “So, we’re sleeping under the big whale, huh?” Above them, suspended from the ceiling, was a to-scale model of a blue whale. “Where’s the champagne, anyway?” Darcy asked.

“Over by the jazz trio,” Jack said, pointing to a balcony. They were playing a jazz version of Britney Spears’ “Toxic.” Appropriate, Darcy thought. She’d somehow turned her casual, fun fling into a serious drama.

 

Darcy got her champagne in a plastic cup, so she could wander around. “This is awesome, isn’t it?” a guy next to her said.

“Yeah,” Darcy said, feeling not at all awesome. She felt pretty crummy.

“Have you seen the Hall of North American Mammals yet?” he asked.

“No,” Darcy said.

“I’m Dave, by the way,” he said, smiling. Dave was exactly Darcy’s type, pre-Brock: glasses, slight build, cute like the actor who’d played Seth on _The OC._

“Darcy,” she said, when he offered his hand. They did a weird handshake dance and Dave laughed.

“You wanna go see those mammals with me?” Dave asked.

“That’s really nice of you, Dave,” Darcy said doubtfully, She was still hoping Brock would show up again.

“Not really,” Dave said, grinning, “I’m terrified of bears. I was hoping you’d protect me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nights at the Museum are real! https://www.amnh.org/plan-your-visit/amnh-sleepovers/sleepovers-for-grown-ups/  
> And: https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/adult-sleepover-american-museum-of-natural-history_us_59107d1ee4b0d5d9049e191a
> 
> Rock/gem rooms exist, too. I'm imagining Darcy next to this hunk of amethyst: https://ny.curbed.com/2017/10/17/16488336/american-museum-natural-history-halls-of-gems-and-minerals-redesign


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night at the Museum, II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your lovely comments and kudos!

After a little persistence from Dave, he and Darcy went to see the mammals, bumping into Jack and Jane on the way. It turned out that Dave was a graduate student in sociology at Columbia, so he chatted pleasantly with them through the hallways, sharing interesting factoids and little jokes. Jane kept making significant faces at Darcy. Jack had to elbow her when her mouthing of “he likes you!” started to draw giggles from other museum-goers. Darcy shook her head sternly. Dave was adorable--adorkable, in fact--but she did not want. She texted Brock when no one was paying attention.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Where are you?

**Agent Rambo:** I told you, I needed to take a walk.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** I’m afraid you’ll be locked out.

**Agent Rambo:**  If I am, I’ll just go back to the apartment. I’d like to dial this back.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Dial this back?

**Agent Rambo:** Or hit pause on any heavy conversations. Forget what I said tonight. Just pretend I’m your fake boyfriend again for the night, so you can enjoy the event. We can talk tomorrow, okay?

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** I can do that, but if you’re not here, I won’t have a plausible excuse for holding your cot and then Dave will take it.

**Agent Rambo:** Dave? Who the fuck is Dave?

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Vaguely adorable grad student trying to convince Jane and Jack to pose for a selfie with him next to some dead moose [photo].

 

***

Two minutes later, he was back, looking upset. “I was gone fifteen minutes, tops,” Brock grumbled. “People are hitting on you already?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Darcy said, looking at Dave laugh with Jack over a weird armadillo diorama. “He’s just very afraid of bears. He thought I could protect him.”

“I paid $375 for my ticket, I’m not having some damn kid student take my cot, so he can hit on you,” Brock said. Dave did look adorably young and bespectacled, Darcy thought.

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said. “I thought you’d say that. He does have that cute young mensch look, doesn’t he? Do you think he’s younger than me? Does that make me a cougar? I was thinking he’s like twenty-six or twenty-seven? Jane always says that’s my type.”

“Skinny and nerdy?” Brock said. “That’s your type?”

“Yeah. Lights out at 2am, Brock.” She walked away.

“Where are you going?” he said.

“Catching up with my friends, fake boyfriend,” she told him, disappearing down a hallway.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. The eyes of a nearby coyote diorama seemed to be quietly judging him.

 

**Agent Rambo:** Is she flirting with Dave?

**Agent Outback:** I wouldn’t say she is, I think he’s the one in pursuit.

**Agent Outback:** Besides, don’t you want her to meet a nice fella? Dave’s a bonzer guy.

**Agent Rambo:** He could be a goddamn serial killer for all you know. You just met him. What’s his last name?

**Agent Outback:** You know, mate, I don’t think he said. But I’m sure he’s all right. No worries. Too many witnesses for a murder. And we’re all sleeping in a big room together.

**Agent Rambo:** Fine. I’ll ask Jarvis to run facial recognition on these selfies Jane’s posted.

**Agent Outback:** You’re very paranoid tonight.

**Agent Rambo:** Fury used to say that ‘just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get you.’

**Agent Outback:** I miss that bastard. He was crazy like a fox.

**Agent Rambo:** I told Darcy i loved her. She wants me to stay. Or she did.

**Agent Outback:** Stay, you fuckwit. You’ll never meet a nicer woman who actually likes you.

**Agent Rambo:** Fuckwit? That’s real charming, Jack.

**Agent Outback:** Think so? I’ll teach it to your mum. I’m sure she’ll have plenty to say when you do a runner on Darcy, you idiot. Is this some sort of ‘won’t be in any club that would have me as a member’ thing? Do you want women who hate you?

**Agent Rambo:** Sharon Carter wants me to start seeing her again, once we’re both at the Agency.

 ***

 

Jack found him in the Hall of African Mammals. “What the fuck, mate? What the fuck?” Jack said. Brock was standing near some ostriches. It seemed appropriate. He felt like he had sand in his ears.

“A few months ago, I would have been very happy--fucking delighted, in fact--to have Sharon come back to me,” he said in a grim voice. “Now the idea makes me want to panic. What am I supposed to do about that? I’ve been in shock since she told me and then today I just blurted out to Lewis that I loved her.”

“Well, obviously, you don’t love Sharon anymore, mate,” Jack said, using a more reasonable tone. He was not used to seeing Brock’s expression. He looked oddly bereft.

“Don’t I? I carried a torch for that woman for years. Across several goddamn continents. You know. You thought I was sleeping with Lewis to stick it to Cap, remember?” Brock said. “Now, I look at Sharon and I just feel...weird as hell. Distant. Like it was another lifetime ago and it happened to somebody else.”

“Because you don’t love her?” Jack said gently.

“I thought I did,” Brock said in that same flat voice. “A few weeks with Lewis and suddenly I feel like a different guy? I don’t trust it.”

“You’re much happier with Darce than you ever were with Sharon, that’s why it doesn’t feel the same,” Jack told him sincerely. “You’re different now, mate. You were never that affectionate with Sharon.”

“Sharon didn’t want people to know we were together,” he said. “Thought it would hurt her credibility at SHIELD to be sleeping with a STRIKE commander.”

“But you like being all touchy-feely with Darcy?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, why?” Brock asked.

“Sharon wasn’t hiding her relationship with Rogers, but I’d hardly call them touchy-feely. She’s a little reserved, if what you have with Darce is what you want,” Jack said.

“I don’t know what I want anymore,” he said grimly.

“You could always flip a coin?” Jack offered.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Brock said.

“They say you know what you want as soon as the coin’s in the air, mate,” Jack said. “Makes you realize how you want it to fall.”

“Oh, so that will magically reveal it to me?” Brock said sarcastically.

“It occurs to me,” Jack said carefully, “that Darcy is the only person you’ve ever been in a significant relationship with and not had to hide it. Amy had to and Sharon chose to, mate.”

“How’d you know about Amy?” Brock said quietly.

“I share a bed with your girlfriend’s best friend. To be fair to Darce, she told Jane about Amy because Jane wanted to murder you for stringing Darce along. She told Jane so Jane would be nicer to you and not portal you to one of the Nine Realms,” Jack said. Brock gave him a brief grin.

“Jane wanted to portal me?” he said.

“You be sitting in Vanaheim if Darce wasn’t better for you than you realize. She tries not to push you too much,” Jack said. “She’s careful with you, underneath all the silliness.”

“She’s not silly, she’s fun,” Brock said, offended. He didn’t like when people implied Darcy’s playfulness equaled less intelligence. She was clever, she just didn’t take herself too seriously. That was what made her easy to be around for all kinds of people.

“Dave sure thinks so,” Jack said.

“Fuck you, Jack,” Brock said. “I know what you’re doing. I won’t rise to the bait.”

“What does that mean?” Jack asked as Brock walked away.

“I’m still going to Langley,” Brock called over his shoulder.

“Hey,” Jack yelled.

“What?” Brock said, stopping and turning back. Jack threw him a quarter.

“Here you go, mate,” Jack said. He caught it.

“This is Australian change,” Brock said quizzically.

“It’s my lucky dollar, mate. Been carrying it around for years,” Jack said. “Give it back to me when you know what you want.”

  
***

When they had bedded down for the night under the blue whale, Darcy reached over and touched his hand. Their cots were all wedged in close. “Hey,” he said. “You okay?”

“Can’t sleep,” Darcy told him quietly. People were whispering and giggling. Darcy thought some museum-goers were a little wasted. “I don’t want to fight with you before you go,” she told him. “It’s stupid.”

“You can be angry with me,” he said guiltily. “I think I might deserve it.” He hadn’t told her about Sharon. He didn’t want to tell her about Sharon.

“You have weird guilt,” Darcy said, picking up on his tone. She wiggled over on her cot, so she could face him. “Besides, I will feel bad forever if we fight and then you go. Like, accidentally-hit-a-granny-in-the-Costco-parking-lot bad, my dude.” He chuckled.

“You’ve done that, huh?” he asked.

“Her name was Dorothy and Jane briefly grazed her buggy. Dorothy wasn’t hurt. This is when I took Jane’s keys away, though. Jane’s not safe to drive when she gets Science! on the brain. I should probably tell Jack that,” she said, automatically looking for her notepad. “Shoot. I have no paper.”

“Make a note on your phone,” Brock suggested.

“You’re very practical,” Darcy told him.

“Yes, I’m impressively practical,” Brock said sarcastically. “It’s a sexy quality.”

“It actually is,” Darcy said. “Reassuring. You’re very calm in a crisis. Jack told me.” Brock snorted.

“I’m calm in a work crisis,” he said. He didn’t feel very calm in his personal crisis at the moment. When Darcy touched him, he felt little jolts of nervous adrenaline, like when they’d first gotten together and been fooling around. If he told her, would she hate him?

“He’s taking her to meet his family in Australia for Christmas, you know,” Darcy said. “I checked on her passport stuff and made sure it was all current awhile ago.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he proposed,” Brock said, swallowing. He wished for Jack’s certainty sometimes.

“I’ve told him I’ll help with picking out a ring. Hey, do you want to get curly fries before you go?” Darcy asked.  She took his arm and put it next to hers, tracing up his forearm lightly with her fingers. It was sexy.

“Curly fries?” Brock said, confused.

“I got a text from Steve earlier, he and Bucky were all loved up in a diner having curly fries and milkshakes. I’m highly suggestible,” Darcy told him. “I mean, not with drugs, but with fries and milkshakes.” Brock chuckled.

“I’ll take you for curly fries, Lewis,” he said. “If you can stand the sight of me.”

“I can,” Darcy told him. “That’s not gonna change, even if you stomp off like a big baby.”

“You flirted with Dave,” Brock grumbled.

“Did not, Grumpy Cat,” Darcy said. “He was really persistent though.”

“If he asks you out, tell him I know about seven ways to kill him that are undetectable,” Brock said.

“Isn’t that...overkill?” she asked, giggling.

“My facial recognition scan isn’t back yet, he could be the Route 77 killer,” Brock said.

“Isn’t he too young?” Darcy said. “He would’ve been like, five during that first murder. I saw a tv special.”

“Plastic surgery?” Brock said.

“I should ask for the name of his surgeon,” she joked.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Brock asked her. “I’m bailing on you.”

“Eh,” Darcy said, “it could be that I love you or it could just be all the sex fried my brain cells. Maybe that’s it. Explains everything. I’ve got sex-brain.”

“Jesus, Lewis,” he muttered. “Stop saying sex when we’re stuck in a room with three-hundred other people.”

“Have you heard the word dickmatized or are you too old for that one?” she asked. He groaned quietly.

 

***

“Darce, wake up, we need to talk,” Jane said, shaking her.

“Mmphf,” Darcy grumbled into her pillow. She had a bit of drool on her face. She picked her head up. “What aliens, Jane?” she said sleepily. “Call Tony for help.”

“Wake up, goober. We need to talk. It’s about Brock and Sharon,” Jane said. “Come with me.”

“Okay,” she said. She followed Jane to the ladies’ room. Inside, Jane told Darcy what Jack had confided in her: Sharon wanted Brock back. She wanted to restart things once they were in Virginia.

 

“Well, shit,” Darcy said. “That explains a lot. I thought he might have hit on her at orchid night,” she elaborated to Jane. “There was that weird tension.”

“No,” Jane said, “she’s hit on him. And it sounds like he’s considering it! Ugh, it makes me so mad. How could he keep that from you?”

“He’s probably compartmentalizing,” Darcy said. “Remember what Jack said about how he was in love with her for years while they were pretending to be dead? I bet he’s in shock.” Early on, Darcy had heard Jack fret openly about Brock’s hangups about Sharon dumping him. Fallon had mentioned it, too.

“What are you doing?” Jane asked, when they left the bathroom. Darcy crawled back into her cot.

“Going back to sleep,” Darcy said.

“You’re not going to confront him?” Jane asked.

Darcy looked at a sleeping Brock. “No,” she said. “It’s four in the morning, Jane. Let him sleep.”

The thing was, Darcy really did love Brock Rumlow. It was a strange feeling. She didn’t just really like sleeping with him; she liked his sarcasm and his teasing and the way he was always taking care of her, whether that meant getting her eclairs or protecting her from being bumped in crowds. His mother was right: he was wasting his potential for being really good with somebody. Instead of yelling or throwing things, she just wanted him to be happy. Would he be happier with Sharon, she wondered? She tried to imagine them together as a real couple. Darcy's first thought was something like 'hell, no.' She could easily see them arguing in a Home Depot over shades of gray-beige paint for the second guest bathroom. Sharon was one of those women who thought colored Christmas lights were tacky, probably. Brock had been very happily living with Darcy's bonkers clutter and even come around to her Elvis shrine. He'd jokingly started leaving little things on it as offerings, like wrapped Twinkies, just to make her laugh. Even if they didn't stay together, he'd never want to go back to a boring normal relationship with someone like Sharon. Sharon might be kickass and ruthlessly efficient as a an agent, but she was a little beige as a person, right? A small voice in Darcy's head whispered that she ought to fight for the relationship, but she didn't know how to. Ultimatums might scare him off. What would her Grandma Lewis do, Darcy wondered? Grandma Lewis had always been very good with men. 

 

***

When they were packing up in the morning, Dave came over and asked for Darcy’s number. She rebuffed him. When he persisted, she had to get a little snippy. “I’m saying no, my dude,” Darcy said. “No means no.”

“Back off,” Brock said, coming up behind her. Jack was just behind him, making one of his terrifying SHIELD faces.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Dave said. “I just thought you were here alone, so…” He looked genuinely frightened of them.

“You could just badger her?” Brock said in a tight voice. “Is that something you do with women, Dave? Come on real strong, because, hey, you’re Dave, you have that boyish face and you’re not a big guy, you’d never hurt anybody? Bet that doesn’t last long, does it? That why you don’t mention your last name, Mr. Tharp?”

Dave gulped. “How’d you know my last name?” he asked.

“We know people,” Brock said. “Get lost, Dave Tharp.”

“That was a little scary,” Darcy said, as Dave hurried off.

“My search just came back. Jarvis told me Dave’s last girlfriend got a restraining order,” Brock said. “He’s persistent, all right. I’ll put a block on him in the Tower, in case he decides to pay you a visit.”

“Look at you, being all protective,” Darcy said.

“It’s my job,” he said. Jack muttered something that Darcy couldn’t hear. “Shut up, Jack,” Brock said.

 

***

 

Jack and Jane had plans to get more succulents, so they dropped off all their sleepover gear and went to an adorable garden shop. This one specialized in succulents and indoor plants. Darcy and Brock tagged along. “Tiny plants, huh?” Brock said.

“They’re very popular in the city, because people don’t have yards. Jack got Jane into some Instagram accounts,” Darcy told him. “Thanks for helping with Dave, by the way.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he said. She had stopped in front of some pink succulents. They looked like cotton candy-flavored jelly beans.

“Wanna go home and fool around?” Darcy asked him.

“Really? You still want to?” Brock asked. He sounded surprised.

“Why does that surprise you?” she asked.

“I thought you might want to stop soon,” Brock said. “Since I’m leaving.”

“Nope,” Darcy said. She was waiting for him to tell her about Sharon. Darcy thought Brock must be miserable; he looked guilty. She didn’t want to push too much, though.

“Let’s get you a better plant first,” he said. “I hate succulents.”

“You hate succulents? They’re cute,” she said.

“You deserve some orchids, Lewis,” he told her. “Let’s look at those.”

They looked around at all the orchids: vandas, mokaras, cattleyas. “They’re all too pretty,” Darcy said. “I can’t pick.”

“This one is you,” he said. “I saw one of these at the show in a different color, but this one is prettier.” He’d picked her out a deep purple vanda orchid. It was stunning.

“Robert’s Delight _Ink Star_ ,” she said, reading the card. “I wonder who Robert was?”

 

They were walking back--Jack and Jane were ten feet ahead, arm in arm, carrying their succulents--when Darcy stopped Brock. “You can tell me, you know. I’m not mad,” she said.

“Tell you?” he said, shifting the orchid in his other arm.

“Jane told me about Sharon,” she said. “I’m not angry.”

“What?” he said. “She--you know? You know about that?”

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said. “You want to get back with her, don’t you?”

“No,” he said flatly.

“You don’t have to spare my feelings,” Darcy said. “I’m a big girl, I can handle it if you want to talk.”

“Lewis, I used to be in love with Sharon,” he admitted. “But we’ve been having a great time and...I don’t know anymore. But I care about you, I really do.”

“Okay,” Darcy said. “I believe you. If that’s all you can share with the group today, that’s okay,” she told him.

“Oh, you’re my therapist now?” he teased.

“I did some free sessions at Culver between alien invasions one and two, I’m ad-libbing,” she said. He squeezed her with his free hand. “Hey, that tickles, cut it out,” she said.

“You want to keep doing dumb touristy things?” he asked, sounding careful.

“Absolutely,” Darcy told him. Then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. The purple blooms of the vanda brushed against her hair.

 

When Jack and Jane looked back, they were kissing on the sidewalk. “He’ll be back,” Jack said quietly. “She’s got him wrecked.”

“Wrecked?” Jane said. Jane was a little more suspicious.

“Just like I’m ruined for anyone else but you, love,” Jack said. “He’s so wound up over her, he doesn’t trust his feelings. He said as much. I’ve got money on a month and a half.”

“Are you actually betting on this?” Jane said.

“Tony picked four months,” Jack said, scoffing. “He’ll never last that long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, the Vanda Robert's Delight 'Ink Star' is *the* most beautiful orchid. I'm totally smitten with it: http://www.odoms.com/v-roberts-delight-ink-star/


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hang On Little Tomato

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos.

Darcy brought her orchid back to the apartment. Brock and Jack were going downstairs to pick up some lab equipment that had been delivered early that date, so Jane followed Darcy. “Darce,” she said softly, “I really don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know,” Darcy said. “You’re a worrier, Jane. It’s what makes you so responsible and trustworthy.” She put her orchid on the table by the door.  “What do you think of it here?”

“It looks nice, but are you okay? You know you can tell me if you’re not,” Jane said.

“I’m fine-ish,” Darcy said. “Do you want coffee? I want coffee.”

“Do you want Brock to stay?” Jane asked. That sidewalk makeout session had looked very hot and heavy.

“ I think I want to make this as fun as possible before he goes, honestly,” Darcy said.

“Because you’re hoping he’ll come back?” Jane asked, crossing her arms.

“Maybe,” Darcy said. She was fiddling with the Stark coffeemaker. “I mean, who would you rather be with? Me or Sharon?”

“You, of course,” Jane said. “But men are insane. Tony can’t make it work with Pepper, Thor left me for Asgard, Bruce spent years pining for Natasha and not doing anything about it. I’d think anyone would pick you, though.” She got the half and half out of the fridge and set it on the counter. Something on the other wall caught her eye and she moved over to it. “Why is there a Little Debbie Zebra Cake on your Elvis shrine?” she asked.

“Oh, Brock does that as a joke,” Darcy said. “He thinks it’s funny to leave Elvis an offering.”

“Oh,” Jane said, surprised.

“Grumpy Cat is secretly hilarious,” Darcy told her.

“Can I eat it?” Jane asked.

“Yup,” Darce said. “Just don’t tell Brock. As the custodian-slash-priestess of the Elvis shrine, technically, I’m the only one who’s supposed to eat the snacks.”

“He does that as a joke?” Jane said, unwrapping the little cake.

“Yeah,” Darcy said.

“Oh, sweetie,” Jane said. “I’m totally going to shoot him in the foot if he breaks your heart.”

“That’s oddly specific,” Darcy said, pouring the coffee. “You don’t even have a gun.”

“Jack does,” Jane said. “Besides, he’ll need to use his foot. It would be a constant reminder. Also, I’m pretty sure that Bucky will use that metal arm to slam him around like Bam-Bam on _The Flintstones_ if you ask?”

“Oh my God! Bucky!” Darcy yelled. “Jane, hold my coffee. I forgot to order the thing.” She ran over to her laptop and typed frantically for a few minutes.

“What are you doing?” Jane asked, setting the cup next to her.

“I am ordering this thing I saw on Ebay for Steve and Bucky. It’s an old Brooklyn Dodgers program. For their hey-you’re-having-couple-sex housewarming present?” Darcy said. “Thank God, I was afraid I’d been sniped by one of those automatic bidders. What were we talking about?”

“Whether or not you’re in love with Brock Rumlow?” Jane said.

“I am, I am, okay,” Darcy said. “I admit it, put the cuffs on me, send me to jail, whatever,” she said, putting her wrists out. “I’m crazy about him.”

“What do you want to do about it, Darce?” Jane said, suddenly looking canny.

“Oh, Jane. No. You’ve got that look,” Darcy said.

“What look?” Jane asked.

“The one you got when you read all those dating books after Thor left the second time. You kept circling parts of _He’s Just Not That Into You_ ,” Darcy said.

“I don’t think that’s it, though. Obviously, he’s into you if he’s buying you cannoli earrings and leaving snacks on your Elvis shrine, he’s playing attention to you. It’s just, how do we get him to stay?” Jane asked.

“This feels like the beginning of one of those ‘One Weird Trick’ Internet articles,” Darcy joked. “Wait, I have an idea.” She picked up her phone. “I’m going to the source of all wisdom.”

“The source of all wisdom?” Jane said. “Is that from _Indiana Jones_?”

“I’m calling Brock’s mother,” Darcy said. “But we could watch that later.”

 

***

 

That night, Darcy looked at Brock. They’d stayed in and he’d made dinner. Brock had wanted to spend a quiet night in the apartment and surprised her with new cooking equipment: a spiralizer machine made to cut veggies into noodle spaces. “Okay, I admit that these are pretty good,” she said. “Delicious, in fact.”  He’d made her carbonara with zucchini noodles.

“I told you it was good. It has bacon and parmesan cheese in it,” he said. “Look at you, eating vegetables.”

“You were right, Grumpy Cat,” she told him, twirling her fork. “I wonder what else you can do with that?”

“I do a decent ginger broccoli stir fry with zoodles,” he said.

“People call them zoodles?” Darcy asked.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Zoodles! I love it. Zoodles,” Darcy giggled to herself. She dangled a zoodle into her mouth and he looked at her and grinned.

“I could have gotten you to eat these sooner if I told you that they had a cute name, couldn’t I?” he asked wryly.

“Probably,” Darcy admitted. “You pick the movie. You’re making good choices.”

He snorted.

 

Darcy kept catching him looking at her with a soft, sad expression, like he missed her already. “You coming to bed?” she asked, once the movie was over and she’d gotten ready to sleep.

“You want me to?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” she said. “Your sad face is killing me, Grumpy Cat.”

“Oh,” he said, getting up off the couch and following her to her bedroom.

“Also, I’m wearing very sexy pajamas,” she said, taking off her bathrobe. Her pajamas were printed with little donuts and coffee cups. He laughed.

“Very sexy,” he said, starting to take off his clothes.

 

When they were all snuggled up later, he looked at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Lewis?” he said softly.

“Yeah?” Darcy said, running her fingers over his bicep. He was so handsome.

“This is the best it’s ever been for me. In my whole life,” he said in a choked voice. “I’ve never been happier with anyone, not even Amy. We were so nervous all the time,” he said, looking away for a second. “I know you think we should try, but I can’t. It’s not you at all. I just don’t know how to be a good boyfriend.”

“You believe that?” Darcy said softly. She rubbed his stubbled face with the backs of her fingers.

“Yeah,” he said.

“For the record,” she said, “you’re very sweet to me 99% of the time. But I won’t ask you to stay again if it upsets you,” she told him.

“No,” he said ambiguously. “That’s not it.” Darcy had almost drifted off to sleep when he spoke again. “99% of the time, huh?” he said.

“Mmm-hmm. You’re an excellent fake boyfriend,” she said.

“Really?” he said.

“I’m 99% sure that I’d like to keep you,” she said.

“What’s the 1% about?” he asked in her ear. His voice was warm.

“You made me eat vegetables tonight,” Darcy grumbled. He laughed and squeezed her bare belly.

“I’ll make you chocolate muffins for breakfast or something,” he said.

“If you hide zucchini in them, I’ll be pissed,” Darcy said. She sighed.

“What?” he asked. “I thought you liked the zoodles?”

“I do. I might like the zoodles too much,” she said softly. She rolled over and kissed him.

“Lewis,” he murmured.

“Yeah, babe?” she said, snuggling him.

 _“Fragolina, sono pazza di te,”_ he said.

He refused to translate it, no matter how many times she kissed him. “Unfair,” she told him. “Rude and unfair.”

 _“_ _Tu sei il sole del mio giorno,”_ he said back. Kissing her, he whispered, _“Sono dipendente dei tuoi baci.”_

“Now you’re just doing it on purpose,” Darcy said, trying to sound offended. “I’ll get my phone.”

 _“Ti amo,”_ he said.

“I know that one! Ah ha! You are so busted, signore,” she told him, wagging her finger at him. _Ti amo_ meant “I love you” in Italian.

“You do?” he said. He grinned at her.

“I’ve seen _Moonstruck._ It’s kind of a big moment, my dude,” she said. “Olympia Dukakis says it to her husband and he breaks it off with charm bracelet lady.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he said, kissing her neck and down her chest. “Good movie.” She traced the words _Ti amo_ on his shoulder with her index finger. He looked up at her. “You feel like seeing a concert before I go?” he asked suddenly.

“Sure,” Darcy said. “Who?”

“Surprise,” he said, grinning.

 

***

Jane and Darcy met Angela and Fallon at a restaurant for a late lunch the next afternoon. They took along regular Stark security; Jane had roped Jack into their plan in the lab so they could speak to his mother alone. Jack was taking Brock someplace for a guys excursion. Darcy suggested paintball, just as a joke. “Hi! It’s so good to see you!” Darcy said, when she saw Angela sitting at a booth, talking intensely with Fallon.

“Darcy, honey!” Angela said, embracing her. They did a round of hugs and greetings.

“It’s good to see you both,” Darcy said to Fallon. A waiter came over and Darcy and Jane decided they’d have wine. Angela cajoled them.

“Live a little, before you get so old that second glass puts you to sleep. I’ve ordered the crab dip. How badly has my son messed up?” Angela said.

“He’s still leaving,” Darcy said. “There’s also whole thing with Sharon.”

“He told her that he loved her the other day and then said he wanted to ‘dial back the conversation’ and confessed that Sharon wants to start hooking up with him once he goes to Langley,” Jane said sharply.

“He’s an idiot,” Angela said, throwing up her arms.

“I always knew I couldn’t stand that little prissy bitch,” Fallon said simultaneously.

“Oh em gee, Fallon!” Darcy said.

“C’mon, Darce,” Fallon said. “The Princess of SHIELD thinks she can ditch my brother and he’ll come waltzing back as soon as she walks by, probably with her nose in the air? She hurt him badly. We joke about it, but she did hurt him.”

“Isn’t Sharon with Steve?” Angela asked, looking puzzled.

“They broke up and now Steve and Bucky are together,” Darcy said. “Besides, when Brock said ‘dial back’ I think he was worried I’d want to fight in front of people. The next morning, he practically said it again and…” Darcy trailed off as the waiter delivered their crab dip.

“But ‘and…’ what, Darce?” Jane asked.

“He says I love you in Italian,” she said. “And some other things I can’t translate? Usually when he thinks I’m half-asleep and stuff. It feels like he _wants_ to say he loves me all the time.” Angela shook her head.

“Just like his father,” she said. “He used to need to have a drink before he could say the words in English, honey. But if he says it, he means it.” She waved her knife and then smeared a sizzling bit of crab dip onto a piece of bread.

“He’s probably freaking out. He never dealt psychologically with the Amy situation. Ma told me the whole story,” Fallon said. “The only other person he ever got close to was Sharon Carter and she didn’t want to acknowledge their relationship at work. I notice she didn’t mind the world to know she was dating _Captain America_ even when it practically got her fired. It really pisses me off that she saw my brother happy and decided to try to get him back. She didn’t want him until she saw how happy he was with you, Darce. You realize that, right?” Fallon asked.

“You really think so?” Darcy said.

“Oh my God, it’s a classic narcissist move,” Fallon said. “Tell them what I’m saying, Ma.”

“Fallon took a class on spotting narcissists and toxic people at the Learning Annex,” Angela said, grinning. With a pang, Darcy realized where Brock Rumlow got his slyest grin. “What, honey?” Angela asked, seeing Darcy’s face.

“You just smiled like him for a second,” Darcy said, looking down at her garlic bread. If she pretended she was playing with her crab dip, maybe no one would notice how weirdly emotional she got when she thought about Brock sometimes.

“She’s known he was alive for a year or something, right?” Fallon asked her mother.

“Uh-huh,” Angela said, turning her attention back to her daughter. “That’s what she told me the other night. That Steve had talked to Phil and he mentioned that they might run into each other at some point, so Steve wouldn’t think they were still HYDRA and throw his shield at them.”

“Did she call him? Text him? Write a letter? No. But the minute he’s all over Darce, she’s trying to get him back,” Fallon said.

“I never thought about it like that,” Darcy said honestly. “I just thought she realized she loved him again when they were living in the same place.”

“What an innocent little thing you are,” Angela said, shaking her head. “Not a mean bone in your body, really.”

“That’s what I tell her all the time. She lets people take advantage because she doesn’t protect herself,” Jane said.

“I don’t see you minding when I bring you Pop Tarts,” Darcy muttered under her breath.

“You have to watch out for narcissists, Darcy,” Fallon told her seriously. “They can be high-status people. Politicians, athletes...”

“I think I did read a _New York Times_ piece about that,” Jane said. They segued into a discussion of narcissistic personality disorder, a terrible boyfriend Fallon had had once, and Jane’s grad school nemesis. Darcy found it pretty entertaining, but eventually, she wanted to ask Angela a question.

“So, what do I do about Brock? You know him better than anyone,” Darcy asked.

“Sweetheart, if I could tell you the right answer, I would,” Angela said. She sounded very sad. Darcy nodded.

“Just have sex with him a lot, if you aren’t already?” Fallon said. A passing waiter eyed her dubiously.

“They already do, trust me,” Jane said, rolling her eyes.

“He’ll miss it when it’s not around,” Fallon said.

“I’m afraid that’s what will drive him to Sharon eventually,” Darcy admitted. “Especially if she’s making overtures and stuff. When we can’t even talk to each other, much less spend any time together?”

“Get Jane to hit her with a van,” Fallon joked.

“Fal,” her mother said sternly.

“What, Ma? Didn’t you hit Thor with a van?” Fallon asked.

“I may have grazed him,” Jane said, sipping her wine.

“He can’t have direct contact with you at all?” Fallon said.

“Nope,” Darcy said mournfully.

“Friggin Langley,” Fallon muttered. “What about indirect contact?”

“What do you mean?” Darcy asked. Fallon was already tapping at her phone.

“I have an idea. I’m going to make some arrangements,” she said. “Go home tonight and start putting together anything you’d give him if you could have mail contact, okay? Get somebody to take pictures of you in cute underwear, write him steamy letters, whatever. You understand?”

“Okay,” Darcy said. She didn’t really get it, but she was willing to comply.

“Oh, I bet Tony knows a good photographer,” Jane said. “I’ll get recs. You could do a whole pin-up photoshoot.”

 

***

There was a considerable amount of sneaking around involved in hiding your pinup photoshoot from your boyfriend if he was also your security guard. Ultimately, they lied and told Brock it was a sexy gift for Jack. “Jack’s lucky,” he whispered softly to Darcy as he kissed her before she left that evening.

“Who knows, you might be lucky, too,” she told him.

“Yeah?” he said.

“One day,” she said. They were holding the photoshoot in one of the Stark rooms. Tony had a space for having his picture taken, as it turned out. Billionaires, right? Tony was waiting upstairs with the photographer. It was a woman, which made Darcy feel slightly less nervous. She had a feeling that a female photographer wouldn’t be as high of a creeper risk. She’d met several creepy male photographers tagging along when Jane had her photo taken. Even for scientific magazines, the photographers were sometimes weirdly intense.

“Do you want me to go?” Tony asked, once he’d introduced everybody.

“No, stay and make jokes, I’ll feel better,” Darcy told him. “More like a normal day. Jane’s staying, too. I’m not going to be in anything more nekkid than a sexy nurse Halloween costume or a bathing suit.”

“Nekkid?” Tony asked.

“Naked means nude, nekkid means nude and up to something naughty, my Grandma Lewis used to say,” Darcy said. She was wearing her Grandma’s favorite lipstick in tribute today.

"You got any music you want?" Tony asked.

"Get Jarvis to play Monsieur Periné or Pink Martini," Darcy said.

 

“I feel ridiculous,” Darcy said, later. It wasn’t the bright lipstick--Cherries in the Snow--or the Marilyn Monroe-inspired matching bathing suit. It was the pose. She was sitting on the edge of a pool chair as "Hang on Little Tomato" played through the speakers. “Why's my back gotta be so archy?” she asked.

“Cause it looks hot,” Tony said. “That’s not sexual harassment, is it?” he asked Jane.

“We crossed that line a long time ago,” Jane said, snorting. “Remember than photographer who did these poses with men to show how sexist they are?”

“Men Ups!” Darcy said. “They were hilarious.”

“Darce, you should do one of the legs in the air ones,” Jane said. “You’ve got fantastic legs.”

“What does she have that’s not fantastic?” Tony asked wryly.

“That’s definitely sexual harassment, Tony,” Darcy said, laughing. “But thank you.”

“Shh,” the photographer shushed them. “I’m working.”

“Should we call Capiscle? He’s an artist and he’s old enough to remember the original?” Tony asked.

“Sure,” Darcy said. “The more, the merrier.”

 

When he arrived with Bucky, Steve laughed for five minutes straight. “Darcybelle,” he said. “Your ‘I’m so sexy face’ is hilarious.” He was practically holding his belly. Darcy stuck her tongue out.

“Shut up, brother cousin,” she said to him.

 

***

 

Later that week, Darcy and Brock went to the cafe from _You’ve Got Mail_. Brock insisted it be a solo thing, for some reason. “Café Lalo, who knew you really existed?” Darcy said aloud, as they sat down. “I thought this was so cool when I was just a weird kid from the suburbs. We didn't even get a Starbucks until I was nineteen.”

“No Dave Chapelle today, though,” Brock said.

“Clint told me he moved to the Midwest?” Darcy said. “He was bragging on Midwestern celebrities once.”

“So, Dave Chapelle and...John Cougar Mellencamp?” Brock said archly.

“I’m so sad that Clint’s mostly in Iowa now and you never got to snark at each other in front of me,” she said. “I just missed him because I got arrested at Scott Lang’s bee-water protest the day before he left, instead of coming home.”

“I knew Barton pretty well in SHIELD,” Brock said. “Good agent.”

“High praise, Grumpy Cat,” she teased. “Ooooh, they have a Nutella waffle here and a Breakfast at Tiffany’s themed danish brunch thing. And like, twenty-five different kinds of cheesecake. What am I supposed to order? So many choices.”

“They’re getting you with clever Audrey Hepburn marketing, Lewis,” he told her wryly. Brock ordered something called Moroccan Delight.

“Oh my God, what is wrong with you? That is tragic,” Darcy whispered to him when the waiter left. She’d ordered Nutella waffles. “That is 75% vegetable. It doesn’t even have cheese in it. I’m ordering you the cheese plate, so you don’t die of starvation.”

“I don’t see you complaining about my abs,” he said grumpily. He sipped his skim-milk cappuccino.

“Can’t you die from no fat? Doesn’t your brain need lipids or something to function?” she asked him. “Or is that carbs?”

“Do you want champagne?” he asked her abruptly. “They have bellinis and something called an Aloha cocktail which sounds right up your alley, like an Elvis bellini?”

“Oooh, a pineapple bellini, that is a great idea,” she said, looking at the menu. “But it is far too early to get me drunk,” she said sadly. “If I have champagne and a waffle, I’ll go into a small coma. I might be out for the whole day.” She waved at the waiter. “We’d like to order three cheeses, too,” she told the waiter.

“Which ones?” the waiter asked.

“Whatever’s good, surprise me,” Darcy told him, winking. He grinned back at her.

“Are you flirting with the waiter?” Brock asked.

“Maybe a smidge? I like to flirt with anyone who brings me cheese. That’s what it looks like when I flirt, in case you were confused by the Dave situation,” she said. “What was I talking about?”

“A small coma?” he said.

“Did I not tell you about my waffle coma incident?” Darcy said. “I had to drive Jane from our hotel to a conference once--”

“Because she runs into old ladies at Costco?” he said.

“Yeah,” Darcy said, “also, we were too broke to stay at the fancier conference hotel. We were at, like Motel 5, it was horrible.”

“Motel 5? Don’t you mean Motel 6?” he asked.

“No, it wasn’t even that nice. Total horror movie motel. I’m pretty sure the Bates family owned it. Anyhow, we got up early, still jet-lagged from the flight. I get her there and they have free waffles. I’m like, ‘great, free waffles,’ so I have two and literally pass out in the audience of this panel talk. I put my stuff on the next seat and just went to sleep. I had notebook marks on my face! Jane said I snored and looked kinda like a hobo crashing the conference. I was wearing layers. This was in Canada, so it was cold there. Plus, I had her bag and my bag. Lots of bags. People thought I was drunk, I guess? But I was just full and tired. Thank God the Canadians were too polite to throw me out.”

“That is adorable, Lewis,” he told her. “You’re adorable.”

“Phhft,” she said. “Look, cheese. Oh, I love you, I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, Mark,” she told the waiter when he sat the cheese plate down. “I’m Darcy, by the way.”

“Are you trying to make me jealous of cheese?” Brock asked, watching her sigh with delight as she ate some chèvre and fig jam.

“I’m not trying to make you jealous, no, but I would like to point out that we could do this frequently if you stayed,” she said. “Have cheese plates, go back to a very fancy apartment, get naked.”

“Lewis,” he said, sighing. He’d expected her to be angry with him over the Sharon thing and instead she’d refused to fight with him. It was hard to remember what he’d found so compelling about Sharon or the CIA job originally when Darcy was trying to feed him some sort of soft French cheese and giving him that beckoning look.

“Try it,” she said, smiling, “c’mon, you know you want to,” she said. “Don’t make me feed this to Mark.” Mark was the waiter. He appeared when she said his name.

“Did you need something, Darcy?” he asked.

“Mark, my dude, he refuses to try the cheese. Is he insane or what?” Darcy asked playfully.

“Completely,” Mark said, winking at her.

“I’ll try the cheese,” Brock said finally.

 

“We should get tiramisu to go,” Darcy told him, halfway through her Nutella waffle. She was still thinking about getting him naked. “I never did get to lick it off your abs like I wanted to,” she mused out loud. He laughed.

“I think it could be arranged,” he said. “But I thought I was the one licking it off you?” he said in a low voice.

“Does that mean Mark should get two pieces of tiramisu or nah?” Darcy asked. “We’ve got, what, two weeks to come back?” She looked at the date on her phone.

“Two and a half,” he said.

“We’ll come back,” she said. “Get tiramisu then.”

“Why are you being so good to me?” he asked quietly. “Don’t you want to throw your shoes at me or something?”

“No,” Darcy said. “I wouldn’t fight with you if you stayed, so why should we fight if we’re only seeing each other for a brief period of time? We only have two weeks and then we might never see each other again. Literally.”

“Yeah,” he said, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. _Never again._

“My aunt Debbie could throw her shoes at you, though,” Darcy told him.

“I’m a little sad Aunt Debbie can’t visit,” Brock said dryly.

“Nope,” Darcy said, shaking her head. “Her probation officer wouldn’t let her leave the state for my cousin’s wedding. She was very upset.”

“Did she slap the probation officer?” he asked.

“No, thank God. She says jail makes her hair frizzy, so we think she’s reformed. Mostly,” Darcy said. He laughed.

 

When they left, she asked him why he’d wanted to come alone. “Jane and Jack would have liked the Nutella waffles,” Darcy pointed out.

“Because,” he said stubbornly and refused to elaborate. Then he pulled gently in her the opposite direction from the Tower.

“Where are you going?” she said.

“We’re talking a walk and then we’re going someplace special later, just you and me,” he told her.

“Okay, fine, Mr. Mysterioso,” she said. He chuckled.

 

Somewhere special ended up being a Rahim AlHaj concert. “How did you know I liked this kind of music?” Darcy said, stunned. She loved what Jane jokingly called “college-town-Unitarian Grandma-hippie-shop-world music,” actually. People were weirdly surprised when she told them she liked oud music and Middle Eastern history. She’d thought about doing a Mideast Studies minor along with her Political Science major, but the timing hadn’t worked out, what with the aliens.

“Because you played it in the lab one day,” he said. “Jane complained, which is why she didn’t get Nutella waffles.”

“Oh, yeah, Jane says it makes her too relaxed to properly Science!,” Darcy admitted. “She says the same thing when I play Ravel or Debussy in the lab, so they’re banned, too. I sneak them in sometimes, if she gets antsy or stays up for more than sixteen hours working and poof, she’s out like a light. You are really sneaky, though,” she told him. “I had no idea that you’d noticed.”

“Highly trained federal agent, Lewis,” he said. “I thought this could be an early birthday party for you. Happy birthday,” he said, kissing her on the sidewalk in front of the venue.

 

“I like this,” Brock whispered to her, mid-concert.

“Yeah,” Darcy whispered back. She’d been resting against him. “It’s kind of hypnotic for me, honestly? I get the same kind of unspooling feeling that I get when we meditate in a good yoga class.”

“Unspooling?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Like a ribbon,” Darcy told him. “All my mental knots just...float away.” She gestured with her hand.

“Huh,” he said quietly. “Like a ribbon?” She nodded and put her head back on his shoulder.

When the lights came on at the end of the show, he gave her a small box. “I’ve got a little present for you, too,” he said.

When she opened the box, she found a necklace with a polymer clay charm in the shape of a slice of birthday cake. It looked like a tiny piece of confetti cake with pink frosting. There were even tiny sprinkles on top.  Next to it was a bottle of Birthday Cake themed perfume from the same place that made Darcy’s waffle cone fragrance. “Oh my God, this is perfect,” Darcy said.

“You like it?” Brock asked.

“So much. It’s adorable,” she told him. “This has been the best day.” He hung the necklace around her neck.

“I’m glad,” he said.

“Can we go have sex now?” Darcy asked jokingly.

“Is that one of your birthday wishes?” he teased.

“Uh-huh,” she said, kissing him. Some people in the aisle rolled their eyes at them making out, but Brock missed it. Darcy realized it was because he’d closed his eyes when she kissed him. It was one of her favorite birthdays, all things considered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Men Ups are a real photography project and they are hilarious: https://www.huffingtonpost.com/emma-gray/men-ups_b_999124.html
> 
> Pink Martini and Monsieur Perine are amazing real bands. Rahim AlHaj is also an incredible Iraqi-born oud player: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=osf1gckzf70


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aspettami.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all the comments and kudos!

Unfortunately, the fake birthday seemed to be a high point for her fake boyfriend. Things went downhill from there, starting the next morning. He’d been fine in bed with Darcy, but Brock got grumpy in the labs. He snarked about the speed of the elevators in the building, the complexity of the coffee machine, the evils of Martin Shkreli, and just about everything else. He’d been bickering with Jack for thirty minutes about the Yankees’ lineup when Darcy decided they’d all had enough. Jane’s shoulders looked a little tense, Darcy thought.

So, she climbed onto her chair in the lab and whistled. “Everyone shut your pie holes!” she yelled.

“Lewis, what the hell are you doing? That’s a rolling chair,” Brock said. “You’ll get hurt.”

“I have had enough of your bickering,” Darcy said, wobbling a little. She put her hand on the wall to steady herself. Brock came over and held onto the chair.

“Me, too!” Jane called, looking up from her readings.

“Get down,” he barked.

“Not until you apologize to Jack,” Darcy said. It was hard to look stern standing in a purple rolling chair, really.

“Fine,” he said. “Jack, I’m sorry.” He didn’t take his eyes off Darcy.

“No worries, mate,” Jack said, sounding highly amused. “I’m used to your terrible moods. Darcy isn’t, though.” Jane snorted.

“Shut up, Jack,” Brock said, starting to wind up again.

“No,” Darcy commanded, as sternly as possible. Brock shut his mouth with an audible snap and helped her down off the chair.

 

The calm lasted for most of the day. Then around four they started bickering again--this time about New York versus Chicago pizza, as if there was such a thing as bad pizza--so Darcy and Jane fled. “Look, I know you’re from a country with a lot of weird shit, but you cannot consider deep dish pizza to be real pizza,” Brock was saying to Jack. “Lewis, back me up on thi--,” Brock said, looking at her chair.

“Where’d they go, mate?” Jack said, looking over and realizing the people they were supposed to be watching had quietly snuck out of the room.

“Shit,” Brock muttered. “Shit. She’ll be pissed.”

“Jarvis?” Jack said. “Where are Jane and Darcy?”

“Doing yoga on the roof, Agent Rollins,” the AI said politely. “Apparently, the atmosphere in the lab has become slightly tense?”

“Fuck,” Brock muttered. “I don’t know why I can’t get my head on straight,” he said to Jack as they rode the elevator up to the roof. “I’m usually calm before missions,” he said. Jack gave him a look, but said nothing.

 

***

Darcy was in downward dog when Brock’s shadow fell over her mat. “I’m sorry,” he said, sighing. “I’m antsy.” She turned her head up to look at him. He was wearing sunglasses, so his expression was ambiguous.

“This is what it’s like, huh?” she asked curiously. She squinted in the sun.

“What?” he said.

“When you end relationships with women, are you always argumentative like that?” she said.

“I haven’t been argumentative with you, only Jack,” he said tersely. “Just so we’re clear.”

“Yup,” she said neutrally. “C’mon down here.” She had an extra wide, cushy yoga mat. He sat on the edge of her mat and she folded back down into child’s pose. When she sat up and looked at him, he was gazing at a spot across the horizon. Over his shoulder Darcy could see Jane and Jack wandering around the rooftop garden, looking at the plants. Darcy reached over and rubbed his arm. “It’s okay, you know,” she told him. “If you get upset sometimes.”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Brock said.

“Okay,” Darcy said.

“Fury called,” he said. “He wants me to start sooner than planned, has a job all ready,” he said. “I didn’t want to tell you.”

“So, when do you leave?” she asked.

“In 24 hours,” he said. “They’re sending a quinjet.”

“Oh,” Darcy said, trying not to cry. He surprised her by hugging her, rocking them both back and forth gently.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t get you curly fries. I thought we had more time.”

“It would never be enough,” Darcy told him.

“No,” he said, “it wouldn’t.”

 

The tried to spend as much of the next day alone together as possible. They were tangled in each other’s arms when Darcy asked if he would be able to call her. They’d discussed Fallon’s plan for a mailbox, but to Darcy, it hurt that she wouldn't be able to talk to him.

“I doubt it,” he said.

“Oh,” Darcy said.

“I’ll be thinking about you,” he said. “Even if I can’t hear your voice.”

“That’s better,” she told him. He trailed kisses all over her face slowly. It was very erotic.

“If I ask you, will you wait for me?” he asked suddenly, looking serious. “Could you do that?”

“Yes,” Darcy said. “I’d always wait for you.”

"Wait for me," he said. 

_"Aspettami,"_ she whispered. She knew the Italian for "wait for me" from a Pink Martini song.

"Yes," he said, beaming. 

 

Darcy went with him--along with Jack and Jane--to say goodbye on the helipad. Darcy was touched when Tony, Steve, Bucky, Bruce, and Natasha showed up, too. She tried not to get overwhelmed and cry. “I’m going to miss you so much,” she told him.

Brock kissed her on the forehead and whispered something in Italian. “ _Sei tutto per me, fragolina,_ ” he said. She tried to write it down once she got back inside, but it was difficult with all the tears blurring her vision.

  


***

 

The next several months passed with agonizing slowness. Fallon had set up a mailbox with a private military contractor that ran a courier and mailbox system near Langley for Brock and told him about it. He’d reluctantly agreed to use it, just to give his mother and Darcy peace of mind. He would check in periodically to pick up her care packages. That was how Darcy could send him things. She’d already sent a few of her cute pin-up photos. She was going to space them out. Both Fallon and Brock had warned her not to expect a reply. They couldn’t talk directly, but she could leave things for him.  If he was even able to pick them up, Darcy thought. He wouldn’t be able to if he was overseas or slammed with work.

She’d never been good at writing steamy letters, so instead she wrote him little notes with funny stories and daily anecdotes. She didn’t use names, only nicknames, for everyone. She stuck in little bits and pieces: confetti, silly cards, cartoons, movie tickets, stories she’d cut out of newspapers or printed out, USBs with homemade playlists or audio files of her talking (without naming anything important) about random stuff, like tv shows, recipes, or new bands. She went to museums and took photos of art or anything that caught her fancy, had them developed, and then sent those, too She put in little cotton balls spritzed with her perfumes, so it would smell like her.  Darcy was miserable in the apartment alone, though. To fill her extra time, she baked desserts for the lab or hung out with Jane and Jack. Her red velvet cake recipe was pretty good and, within a few weeks, she was the most popular person on the lab floor. Steve and Bucky dropped by at random intervals, just looking for food. Steve liked her mint brownies and Bucky had volunteered to be her taste-tester when she finally tried to make pies. She didn’t feel comfortable with pie dough yet.

 

Darcy had decided she wanted to take Italian, too, so she went to a night class once a week, obediently followed by her new security guy. His name was Charles Rink. Phil had recommended him. He was taking the class with her. She’d volunteered to pay his way, but he’d said language training wouldn’t hurt him, “even if nobody speaks Italian.” Darcy had tried not to be offended by that. Plenty of people she adored spoke Italian. Darcy missed the sound of it. She kept going down to the Italian cultural center for events, just to eavesdrop. She’d made a couple of acquaintances that way.

“Hey, Chuck, you know Phil?” Darcy asked him on their first subway ride to Italian class. She’d declined a private car.

“I do,” he said. “He worked with my mentor at SHIELD, John Garrett?” Chuck said.

“You don’t mind if I call you Chuck, do you, sir?” Darcy said, doing her best _Peanuts_ impression.

“Don’t mind at all,” he said, smiling. Chuck was about thirty-five, blonde, and handsome. He had a nice face, but Jane didn’t trust him.

The little classroom was full of adult students. Darcy was one of the youngest people there. Their Italian teacher was a very nice woman who looked like Christiane Amanpour. She complimented Darcy on her use of conversational gesture and Darcy felt pretty smug. That faded when they started talking about verb tenses, of course. But Darcy traded information with several of her classmates. They might do a study group at a cafe sometime. She thought it was charming that a bunch of the retirees were learning Italian to travel or reconnect with their family roots. Darcy and Chuck talked about the language class on the way back.

“What was your favorite word, Chuck?” Darcy asked. She was taking Italian in part so she could send her favorite words to Brock in her notes.

“I dunno if I have one,” he said.

“I like _meraviglia_ ,” Darcy said. “It means a marvel or a wonder.”

“How would you get any use out of that?” Chuck asked.

“Chuck, we’re stopping at a pastry shop on the way back,” Darcy told him.

 

In the shop she pronounced everything a marvel. “ _Sei una meraviglia_!” she told a cannoli. The guy behind the counter grinned.

“You speak Italian?” Chuck asked.

“Nah, Spanish, but the boss does,” he said. “In Spanish, it’s _maravilla_.”

“Will you write that down for me?” Darcy asked him, handing him one of the little pretty notecards she carried around now to send to Brock.

“Sure, sure,” he said. She took the card back and smiled. She hadn’t told Chuck she had a long-distance boyfriend, but he guessed on their walk back.

“How’d you know?” Darcy said, not disclosing Brock’s name.

“You pick up little things to send him and you smile,” he said. “Yesterday, it was a gift card.”

“Nah, that was actually for Jane,” Darcy said. “She loves gift cards, because she’s hard to buy for, but she can always use a travel mug, if you’re ever buying.”

“A travel mug?” he asked.

“She leaves hers places,” Darcy said. “One time, we think she left in on the subway. She almost left her favorite in Norway by accident. She was deep in Science!,” Darcy said. “But I made sure to check for it.”

***

 

When they got back to the Tower after one Italian class, there was a package waiting for Darcy. “It’s from some sort of crafts place?” Chuck asked quizzically. “Do I need to bomb scan it?”

“No,” she said. Darcy recognized it as the name of a popular polymer clay artist. When she opened it, she found another little charm for her bracelet, to go next to her waffle. It was a tiny cheesecake slice with a strawberry on top. The auto-printed card from the business had a few words typed in Italian: _Mi manchi._ Darcy pulled up her translation app and typed it in. The little Italian to English bubble popped up in a few seconds: _I miss you._

“You know Grumpy Cat?” Chuck asked, looking at the typed signature. Darcy burst into tears.

“Why did you make her cry?” Jane said, coming around the corner and immediately running to Darcy. She glared at Chuck.

“I didn’t,” he said, looking nervous. “She got a present from Grumpy Cat? The Grumpy Cat?” he asked. “From Instagram?”

“Oh,” Jane said. “Oh, honey, it’s okay. You can go now, Chuck,” Jane said.

“You really don’t like him, do you?” Darcy said, sniffling and laughing a little, once Chuck had backed away and disappeared. “That was kinda rude,” she said, wiping her eyes.

“He asks too many questions about my work,” Jane said. “Jack doesn’t like him, either. He seems fake.”

“We’ll fire him, then,” Darcy said. “I can go to Italian class alone or with regular Stark guys.” Darcy liked the Stark people much better, anyway. Chuck was a little stiff. He didn’t even know who Regina Spektor was and he never laughed at her Scooby Doo impressions.

“Let’s keep him until we go to that conference in a few weeks, just for safety,” Jane said. “After that, we’ll find someone new. Just don’t tell him much.”

“Okey-dokey,” Darcy said. "Oh, Jane, I don't know how I'm gonna do this," she cried. She was still holding the little cheesecake charm in her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pink Martini's song, Aspettami: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sy1te3-XxdI
> 
> Other favorite Darcy words:
> 
> Dormiveglia= the drowsy space between waking and sleeping
> 
> Ciambelle= donuts


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If You Want The Rainbow....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos.

Darcy was doing her Italian homework and having a blueberry Pop-Tart one morning when Bruce asked what her favorite word was for that day. “Carino!” Darcy said.

“Carino?” he said.

“It means cute or sweet, it makes me think of you,” she told him. He blushed. “Aww, Jane look! He blushes so pretty.” Jane beamed.

“He does,” she said.

“Too right,” Jack said, laughing. He was putting a few succulents in the lab. He’d slowly turned their apartment and the labs into plant-friendly places. Brock’s stepfather did want to hire him, but Jack had also been offered a future job by Tony. He would be in head gardener for the rooftop gardens and in charge of turning all the Stark offices into more eco-friendly places. Apparently, Pepper was very into the idea of a living office: plants, natural light, etc. to go along with yoga and gluten-free cafeteria options. It was cutting edge office planning. Tony was desperate to get in Pep’s good graces at the moment and had even told Jack to draw up proposals for adding in soothing salt water aquariums to several floors. Jack was interviewing aquarium specialists and researching at night.

“What did you want to do for your birthday, Darce?” Bruce asked softly. “It’s a big one.” Darcy was turning thirty soon.

“A place to hide from whatever Tony is planning,” Darcy joked. “I was gonna dye my hair and change my name.” Bruce laughed.

“You’re not going to pretend like being thirty is not a big deal,” Jane said. “We’re throwing you a good party this year.”

“We wandered many years in the desert with only mug cakes to celebrate,” Darcy told Bruce. He chuckled.

“Oh, yeah?” Jack said. He was hanging a fern. “I thought you walked uphill in the snow?”

“That, too,” Darcy said. Truth be told, she wanted to spend her birthday with Brock. But what could she do about it? Not a damn thing. _“Porca miseria,”_ Darcy muttered to herself. It was the rough equivalent of dammit in Italian. A classmate had taught her that it literally translated to “miserable or poor pigs.” She thought that was a reasonably appropriate swear word for her mood these days.

 

Tony popped his head into the lab. “Brucie, I need your help,” he said to the scientist.

“Hey, Tony,” Darcy said.

“Lewis, why the long face? Oh, I forgot, you’re not getting laid now,” he said.

“Ugh! Tony! No fair,” Darcy said, laughing. She threw her Minion stress ball at him and he dodged it.

“Did you not see the sign?” Bruce asked wryly, pointing with his thumb. He and Jane had put it up in the labs right after Brock left. Edged in glitter were the words:

 

_No Mocking Darcy for Not Gettin’ Any -Management._

_PS: Beware Pickpockets and Captain America._

 

“You made a sign?” Tony asked. “What is that Lilo & Stitch sticker for?”

“It’s serving as the apostrophe, since we dropped the g, Tony. Steve was making too many jokes about setting me up with his last surviving WWII buddies, since I like old men with guns,” Darcy said. “Apparently, there were no Italian-American Howling Commandos, which seems like a terrible oversight.”

“Itty Bitty,” Tony said seriously, clapping his hands together, “we’re going to throw you a really fantastic birthday party. Capiscle and the Soviet Murderbot will call it swell. I’m taking live music, great food, and a giant cake. All with your very own Over The Hill theme,” he said finally, looking pleased with himself. Darcy groaned and put her face down on the desk.

“Tony, no,” she said.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fun,” he told her. “Would you like my cake person to bring you samples?”

“You have a cake person?” Bruce asked.

“Sheila’s fantastic,” Tony said. “She’s been doing all my birthdays since 1997. She can do amazing things with fondant: naked ladies, Iron Man suits, whatever you want.”

 

***

One Wednesday, Darcy’s Italian class was cancelled, so she stayed home on the couch in the evening. Jane and Jack had signed up for a couple’s cooking class on Wednesdays, since she was regularly out, too. It was really cute. Jack kept Jane from burning herself. They’d promised to bring back Darcy some of whatever they made; Jane was worried Darcy had lost weight because she was sad about Brock. It was probably more accurate to say she’d lost five pounds because he wasn’t spoiling her with food 24/7. Still, Darcy felt very lonely and down. She was starting a mope-watch of _Midnight in Paris_ when someone knocked.

“Miss Lewis, Captain Rogers and Sgt. Barnes are at your door,” Jarvis said politely.

“Let ‘em in, J-man,” Darcy said.

“Hey, Darcybelle, we’re crashing your movie,” Steve announced cheerfully when he walked in. He had a bottle of her favorite fizzy wine tucked under one elbow and a six pack of beer in the other.

“We brought Chinese,” Bucky said sweetly.

“Jane put you up to this, didn’t she?” Darcy asked.

“Do you mind?” Steve said, looking wide-eyed and perfectly innocent. That meant he wasn’t going leave until she perked up.

“Depends, what kind of Chinese do you got?” Darcy teased.

“All of ‘em,” Bucky said. He _was_ loaded down with bags and boxes.

“Or about 3/4ths of the takeout menu,” Steve said. “To be technically accurate. We got you shrimp and ginger broccoli, Darcybelle.”

“Oh, good, I love ginger broccoli.” At Bucky’s raised eyebrow, Darcy grinned. “What? I’m not allowed to like one vegetable? That’s my one,” she said.

Steve and Bucky regaled her with stories about WWII-era Paris. The Howling Commandos had actually gone on an Army two-day pass once during the war as part of what Steve derisively called “the Captain America public relations business.” All the stories invariably involved someone being drunk, embarrassed, or almost falling into the Seine. Darcy knew they were trying to cheer her up, but she didn’t mind. They were hilarious stories.

“Wait,” Darcy said, “you’re telling me you met Charles DeGaulle?”

“Lots of people met him,” Steve said, shrugging.

“Well, yeah, he was a Resistance hero and the president of France!” Darcy said. “I’ll never get over how many famous people you’ve met.”

“Famous dead people,” he said wryly. "Besides, he wasn't president then."

“We made a list of all the dead people Stevie met once,” Bucky said. “When we were bored.”

“Had to stop at twenty-five pages. Once you’ve met one politician,” Steve said, “you’ve pretty much met them all, Darcybelle.”

“Punk, you’re turning into a real cynic,” Bucky said teasingly.

“I know, right?” Darcy said, fake-slapping Steve on the arm. “Captain, I expect you to be giving me more Frank Capra vibes. Where’s my heartwarming speech?” Steve grinned.

“Didya know _It’s A Wonderful Life_ flopped when it came out?” he asked wryly.

“So, wait,” Darcy mused, “are Nick and Phil on the Famous Dead People List or nah?”

“I guess no?” Bucky said.

“We should do a Famous Undead People You Know list,” Darcy suggested, pulling out a notepad.

“Me,” Bucky said, mock-raising his hand. “I want to be first on the list. But can Stevie list himself?”

“I wouldn’t want to leave you by yourself, Buck,” Steve said, “Put me down second, Darce.”

“Always copying me,” Bucky teased. Steve kissed him. It was very sweet, Darcy thought. 

It was even sweeter when Darcy realized they'd left a tiny offering--a fortune cookie--on her Elvis shrine with a note that referred to themselves as "substitute shrine pilgrims," just to make her smile. "Jarvis," Darcy asked, "did Jane ask Steve and Bucky to take care of my Elvis shrine?"

"I'm afraid not, Miss Lewis," the AI said.

"No?" Darcy said, confused.

"I believe it was Agent Rollins," the AI said. 

"Jack?" Darcy said. "Huh. That's really sweet of him."

 

***

In the cooking class, Jack was frowning. One of the other students edged away cautiously at his expression. “Squid ink?” Jack said skeptically. “We’re cooking with squid ink tonight?”

“Oooh, we’re going to have pretty teeth,” Jane joked. “Darcy just texted to say geishas used to darken their teeth because it was considered beautiful. She and Bucky and Steve are making some sort of Undead People list?”

“Like zombies? Where does she find all these weird facts?” Jack asked curiously.

“Um, she subscribes to those word-a-day things and random factoid emails. She says strange trivia stays in her brain longer than anything important. Also, she listens to a lot of weird podcasts on history?” Jane said. “For awhile, we celebrated whatever day it in was in New Mexico to stave off boredom. Like National Skittles Day or National Yoga Day? Darcy found a calendar online, but we had to quit when supplies got too hard to find at the observatory in Norway. Also, there was a small incident when Erik came to visit.”

“An incident?” Jack asked. Those were the best stories.

“It was National Rollerblading Day and he sprained his ankle,” Jane said. "He almost skated into the director of the observatory, too."

“Maybe you should start again? Just to give Darcy something fun to look forward to?” he suggested gently, as he stirred the risotto. “You got the squid ink ready?”

“Yeah,” Jane said, poking dubiously at her little container of squid ink with a teaspoon. “Jack, do you think he’ll really come back?” she asked suddenly.

“I think so, love,” Jack said. He got a strange half-smile.

“What?” Jane asked.

“Before he left, he bailed me up and told me if anything happened to her, he’d have my guts for garters,” Jack said, laughing.

“Bailed you up?” Jane asked.

“Cornered me,” Jack said. “I have strict instructions that she’s not even to break a bloody nail.”

“You think that’s reassuring?” Jane asked.

“I’ve known the man for years. Ask me how many people he’s asked me to keep an eye on? It’s just Darce, his mum, and Fal,” Jack said. "Also, he wanted me to make sure her orchid lives and people leave things on that bloody Elvis shrine. I've got Bucky and Steve on that job, Stevie's delighted. I hope he doesn't leave anything prankish that comes back to bite me like a grass snake." Jack looked momentarily doubtful. "You don't think he'd leave an actual snake, do you, love?"

"God, no," Jane said. "Darcy has a phobia. She tased him when he put a rubber one in her office chair and he swore he'd never do that again."

 

***

As if the universe knew she needed more cheering up, Darcy got another package from Brock the next week. He’d been periodically having things sent from stores: a perfume that smelled like fresh cut grass, books, notecards, and a handful of polymer clay charms via Etsy sellers. Her bracelet was now loaded with food charms and she practically jangled in the lab. She’d put her birthday cake charm on the bracelet, so she could wear the eclair & coffee cup necklace he’d given her first around her neck everyday. Jane had started making jokes about her needing a second bracelet soon.

That was what she was hoping for when she opened the manilla envelope with her address on it. She was surprised by something unexpected. It was a little pair of silver cloud earrings with rainbow-colored drops for raindrops. On the card, the seller had included a typed note in Italian that roughly translated to, _If you want the rainbow, you have to have the rain. Or at least stop watching that movie. I’m not leaving you, little strawberry._ Darcy laughed and cried at the same time.

“What’s wrong?” Jane asked.

“Grumpy Cat must have picked up on my sad mood, since I sent him that USB talking about _Sita Sings The Blues_ and Annette Hanshaw songs the other week,” Darcy said.

“I don’t get it,” Jane said. She came over to look at the gift. “Those earrings are so cute, though.”

“That’s because you have failed to watch _Sita Sings The Blues_ with me,” Darcy said. “There’s a cute old song about having to survive the rain to get the rainbow.”

“Why is Brock telling you he’s not leaving?” Jane said. Across the room, Jack looked up, concerned.

“Because Sita is abandoned by Rama and the animator’s boyfriend moves to India and leaves her, that’s the whole theme,” Darcy said, “but it’s a really fantastic movie, I swear. Just wonderful.”

 

Darcy decided she would do some other little things to boost her mood. They'd started celebrating made-up PR holidays again and she’d stolen some crafting ideas from a blogger. Jane thought it would be good for her.  So, she and Jane scheduled a weekly marathon of their favorite Netflix shows ( _The Great British Bake Off, Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries_ , _North & South),_ did some really terrible crafts, and tried weird-flavored junk food. Darcy was talking about putting some bright streaks in her hair. She’d always wanted to do that.

She and Jane were sitting around in her apartment one night, trying to decide between purple, blue, and teal as a hair color option and grimacing over a strange potato chip flavor (Wasabi Ginger) while  _North & South _played on the television. "You know, I really understand why Margaret Hale turns down the hot factory owner's proposal at first," Darcy mused. "When you meet somebody 'cause they punch an employee, that's gotta put a damper on romance, even if the employee was going to kill everybody smoking in a cotton mill." Jane nodded. 

“Uh-huh. He seems dangerous and he has that very scary mother. I think Margaret's being logical, for what she knows. Darce, did you know that you can have someone put glitter extensions in your hair?” Jane said, showing her an image from her phone. "We could do it for your birthday?"

“Do you think Brock would think that was cute or silly?” Darcy asked. They looked cute to her.

“Cute,” Jane said firmly. She’d realized something was missing from Darcy’s apartment. “Where’s your Minion couch pillow?”

“I dunno, I thought at first that Steve or Bucky stole him as a joke, but they said no,” Darcy said. “He’s been missing forever.”

“Uh-huh,” Jane said, grinning. “I have an idea where Stuart went on vacation.” She looked up at the ceiling. “Jarvis, did Brock take Stuart the Minion Pillow with him to Langley?” Jane asked, laughing.

“I believe that he did,” the AI said politely.

“Shut up, he took my Stuey?” Darcy said. Somehow, that made her feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The clouds & raindrop earrings. You can find them in lots of different colors: blues, rainbow, etc.: https://www.etsy.com/listing/130260822/rainbow-cloud-earrings-assorted-colorful?ref=user_profile&ep_click=1
> 
> The Annette Hanshaw song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qcb3FB52lK4


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> August 10th is: S'mores Day, Lion Day, & Duran Duran Appreciation Day. Celebrate accordingly!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for your comments and kudos.

“Happy National Coloring Book Day!” Darcy announced, bringing coffee and tea to Bruce and Jane with Jack’s help on August 2nd. “Jack and I have coloring books, colored pencils, and scented markers. We’re going to take fifteen minute coloring breaks when things get too Science! up in heeeeeere,” she singsonged, setting down her bags. She was doing a whole ‘fake it til you make it’ deal with her moods these days. They celebrated every snack and fun day and guilt-tripped Tony into writing a big ol' check for all the ones in honor of diseases and causes. That turned out to be surprisingly easy. Tony was a real softie underneath the arrogance. Darcy thought was a coping mechanism he used, along with sarcasm, to hide his vulnerability. She also thought he would benefit from a dog or a cat to be affectionate towards and get unconditional affection from in return, but he refused to listen.

“Awesome,” Jane said, when Darcy handed her several, including a galaxy-themed coloring book. “Oh, wow, you got me unicorns and succulents, too?”

“I thought you might be tired of the galaxy stuff?” Darcy said. “You and Jack can share succulents. Where’s Chuck? I got him a Kermit one?”

“I dunno,” Jane said. “He said he had to run an emergency errand and he’s not back yet?”

“He’s a little bit weird,” Bruce said.

“If you think he’s weird, then he’s very weird, mate,” Jack said. Bruce Banner was one of the least-judgmental people that Jack had ever met.

“Brucie, you get mandalas and also one that has calming designs of cuss words,” Darcy said, laughing.

“I love these,” Bruce said happily. He picked a blue glitter marker and hummed to himself as he filled in a swear word. Jane was a bit more difficult to un-Science!, but Jack eventually talked her into helping him pick colors for their succulents.

“Jack, your succulents are super pretty,” Darcy said. He was delicately filling them in with the colored pencils and doing shading and subtle transitions.

“He can really draw,” Jane said.

“I dunno why I can’t play a guitar to save my life,” Jack grumbled.

“When Brock gets back, I’ll make him practice with you more,” Darcy said.

“This was a really good idea,” Bruce said a few minutes later. “I’ve colored in two fucks and I feel great.”

“Yay!” Darcy said, clapping. “Also, we’re definitely celebrating S’mores Day on the 10th, we just can’t have a fire in the lab again.”

“That was totally my bad,” Jane told Jack. “I got a little too enthusiastic with the kitchen torch we were using on the marshmallows.”

“Everybody makes mistakes sometimes,” Darcy told her comfortingly.

***

Jack and Jane’s cooking class had ended, but Jane signed them up for a chocolate-making class. Jack was a little nervous, but Jane was game. “I want to make Darcy her own birthday chocolates,” she told him.

“That’s a sweet idea, love,” he said.

“Your puns are so cute,” Jane said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him.

“No kissing in the kitchen,” the instructor said sternly. For a second, Jack thought the woman was serious. Then she burst into laughter. “You should see your face!” she said, chuckling. “Class, this is a great segue into our first lesson in chocolate shapes. We’re making kiss lips tonight, using this mold. First, we’ll put in our decorative elements into the mold that will be on top of the finished chocolates--sea salt and edible glitter--then we’ll do a layer of tempered, melted chocolate, the caramel filling, and a final bit of chocolate for the backs of the caramel kisses,” the instructor explained. “It will be necessary to cool the molds in between layers, but by far the most challenging part is tempering the chocolate correctly.”

 

***

Back at the Tower, the Avengers were gone on an alien-fighting mission somewhere near Roswell, NM. Darcy was too sad to sit in her apartment alone, so she’d gone up to the labs to retrieve some of the markers she’d left upstairs. She had a new flapper coloring book. She wanted to color and watch _Miss Fisher_ , if she was all by her lonesome. She shuffled onto the elevator in her fuzzy slippers and asked Jarvis to take her to the lab floor. The AI’s reply was slightly garbled and fuzzy. “What’s wrong, J-man, you coming down with something?” Darcy asked.

“It is pofhtgjk,” the AI said.

“Tony will fix you right up once he gets back,” Darcy reassured him.

“Ghunk you, Miffss Lelllss,” the AI said.

“You’re welcome, buddy,” she said. Rather than make poor Jarvis talk, Darcy hummed to herself and thought about her absent boyfriend. Her absent fake boyfriend? She often wondered what Brock was doing at random moments. Was he okay? Could he be hurt? It was very anxiety-inducing. She might need to borrow one of Bruce’s _fuck_ coloring pages after all. She was looking for a missing glitter marker under her desk when a pair of male feet appeared behind a hand truck. “Hey, Chuck,” Darcy said, “did we get an equipment delivery? I wasn’t expecting anything.” There was a large box on the hand truck. It was luggage trunk-sized.

“No,” Chuck said neutrally, “this isn’t for equipment, Darcy.” That was when Darcy realized he was wearing gloves.

 

***

Somewhere along the edges of the North African desert, Brock Rumlow’s team was riding through a small village. When they stopped at their destination, he got out to stretch his legs. Just outside the building, a little boy of ten or eleven was playing an oud. Elegantly and carefully, the boy plucked the strings with a thin plectrum _._ “Man, that’s the weirdest looking guitar pick,” one of the other people who emerged from the SUV said. It was Lee, the tech guy.

“It’s not a guitar pick, it’s something called a _risha_ ,” Brock said neutrally.

“You don’t talk for twelve days, but you know what a reesha is?” the other man said.

“He talks,” a voice said from behind them. Sharon Carter had emerged from the SUV.

“Since when?” Lee asked the blonde. He watched as Rumlow walked over to the boy and knelt down. “He don’t talk to us,” Lee said. “Hell, he don’t even talk to you.” When Sharon walked away, Lee shook his head and muttered, “it ain’t for lack of trying though, is it?” There was a slight edge to the computer tech’s voice.

“Lee,” a third member of the team said warningly. “Don’t start shit you can’t finish. Especially with Carter.”

 

Fifteen feet away, Brock was having a conversation with the oud player in their one shared local language. Unfortunately, his French was rusty. _“Ma femme aime cette musique,”_ he told the little boy finally. He couldn’t remember enough to compliment the boy on his playing.

_“Elle est ta femme?”_ the boy asked, looking curiously at Sharon. She had her arms crossed and was staring in the opposite direction.

_“Non,”_ Brock said. _“Ma femme n’est pas avec moi.”_

_“Pourquoi?”_ the boy said.

_“Je suis un imbécile,”_ Brock said. The little boy laughed. Then he leaned forward and whispered to the taller man, this time in English.

“If you bring your wife, I will play my music for her,” he said, grinning at his own mischief. It was a fun game to make adults think you knew less than you did, especially when they underestimated you anyway.

“You do speak Englis--” Brock began, but then it dawned on him that the word for woman-- _femme--_ and the word for wife were the same in French. He’d forgotten. It took him time to recover. “Yeah, kid, I’ll bring my wife,” he said quietly.

The boy grinned again. “You are strange,” he said to Rumlow.

“I’m stupid, that’s what I am. Don’t be like me,” he told the boy. “You play well.”

“Merci, monsieur,” the little boy said, ducking his head shyly. One of the other members of the team was walking up, so he’d switched back to French.

“Back to that again, huh?” Brock said, grinning.

“What you smiling about?” Lee asked him.

“My friend,” Brock said, “is a very talented player.” He gave the kid a friendly pat on the shoulder, a few local paper bills for his playing, and led Lee away.

 

***

The Avengers were standing in a wide-expanse of empty desert on another continent. “Where are the aliens?” Steve asked, befuddled.

“There are no aliens,” Natasha said coolly.

“An ambush,” Bucky said, looking around grimly and gripping his knife.

“But there’s nobody here,” Bruce said calmly. “Nothing on the quinjet radar for miles.”

“It was a fake call out,” Tony said. “A diversion. Someone’s hacked the system. But what for?” Just then, his suit alerted him to Jane hitting her emergency bracelet in New York. “Oh shit,” he muttered.

“We gotta get back there,” Steve said.

***

Jack and Jane were carrying their little chocolates back that night, when a figure loomed out of an alley, grabbed Jane by the arm and twisted. She yelled. He had probably planned on dragging her away, but he didn’t anticipate the petite scientist’s strong right hook. She carried her equipment everyday, after all. Jack had also taught her self-defense. As soon as Jane’s hit landed, Jack jerked him backward, sweeping him off his feet and disarming him. The assailant hit the ground with a thud. Jack had drawn his gun and was standing over the man when Jane swore at him for good measure. “Who sent you?” Jack said coolly. “Nice hit, love,” he told Jane.

“Nobody leaves the organization. You and Rumlow should have known better. You better hope your bitch's little assistant friend is as talented, traitor,” the man said. In a flash he’d swallowed his suicide pill. “Hail Hydra,” he gurgled.

“Darcy,” Jane said, terrified. “He means Darcy.” She was already grabbing her phone to call Tony and simultaneously hitting her Stark emergency bracelet.

“They’re targeting you both because of Brock and me,” Jack said flatly. He looked suddenly feral and dangerous again.

"We have to get to Darcy," Jane said, panicking now. Her carefully-made chocolates lay smashed on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's Days of the Year calendar: https://www.daysoftheyear.com
> 
> Swear word coloring books also exist: https://www.amazon.com/Color-Me-cking-Calm-Display/dp/1250121426/ref=pd_sim_14_1?_encoding=UTF8&pd_rd_i=1250121426&pd_rd_r=36S1AB2D6V3MX5ZY3SFD&pd_rd_w=IrtOK&pd_rd_wg=PvPYr&psc=1&refRID=36S1AB2D6V3MX5ZY3SFD


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just hate Chuck?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos.

The fluorescent lights buzzed in the dark and there were faint sounds of traffic from outside. Chuck Rink was rolling his hand truck through the Avengers Tower parking garage when he passed Larry, one of the building’s evening security guards. “Hey, Chuck,” Larry said. “Nice night, isn’t it?”

“Uh-huh. Great night,” Chuck said.

“You need some help with that?” Larry offered. “Looks heavy.”

“No, I got it,” Chuck said. His hands had tightened reflexively around the handle.

“All right, see you around, Chuck,” Larry said. As the security guard disappeared around a row of cars, Chuck began to whistle. He was still whistling when he loaded the box into a van. With a last friendly wave at Larry the guard, he pulled out of the parking lot and out into the city. Inside the box, a zip-tied Darcy was still unconscious. A small amount of blood from her head wound was soaking into the cardboard.

 

***

Jack and Jane were too late. By the time they got to the building, Chuck and Darcy were both missing. The lab’s cameras had been disabled, but they had plenty of images of a calm-seeming Chuck rolling a box big enough to hold a person out to the garage. All Larry could tell them was that Chuck seemed chipper and that he’d turned right when he departed. They went back upstairs and Jack called some old SHIELD colleagues now in law enforcement to help pull up traffic camera footage; with Tony and the team coming back from New Mexico, Jarvis was still fritzing and couldn’t give them that information. Jack called Tony again to ask if Tony could track Darcy’s security chip--hidden in her Stark smart watch--from the quinjet.

“I’m working on it,” Tony told him. With Jarvis unable to function normally, Tony was entering commands by hand, so it took longer. Over the phone, Jack heard an electronic error beep. “Shit,” Tony muttered. He always had more typos when he was stressed.

“I’ll let you concentrate, mate,” Jack said. “Call me as soon you have a location.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, typing furiously. They ended their call.

 

“She put up a fight, Jack,” Jane said. She’d found Darcy’s polymer clay charm necklace under the desk. The chain had snapped when Darcy struggled with Chuck and it had landed on the floor. Someone’s foot had ground up the little tray of eclairs.

“I’m going to get something from the apartment,” Jack said grimly. “Come with me, just in case?”

Jane followed him down the stairwell; Jack was still worried about whatever had disabled Jarvis. They’d locked down the building, but who knew who else could be Hydra within?

 

Jane gasped slightly when she saw Jack’s weapons cache hidden behind a wall in their apartment. “I had no idea this was here,” Jane said. He’d pressed on a wall panel and it had slid aside to reveal a row of guns, knives, and boxes of ammunition.

“All the apartments have a hollow space here with a valuables safe. Most people don’t bother filling them, but Brock and I asked Tony about a gun safe, so he told us the space was already available. Can you get into Darcy’s apartment?” he asked. “I need access to her safe, too.”

“Yes. We both can, as far as I know. If not, I have a physical key as a backup. She has a safe?” Jane said, confused.

“No,” Jack said grimly, “Brock does. He left me some of his equipment in case of an emergency. We divided our caches’ up, so there’d be weapons in both apartments if something happened. I want his old SHIELD gun sight. You take this gun, I know it looks mad, but it’s easy to use. Very little recoil. Anyone even looks at you funny, you shoot them, you understand? Can you do that for me, Jane?”

“Yes,” Jane said. She slipped the gun strap over her shoulder. It was a freaking machine gun or something like that, she thought. For years, she had avoided having guns around when she and Darcy traveled. She didn’t like them. They made her nervous. Jane might dislike guns, but she could have shot Chuck with this one in a second.

 

In Darcy’s apartment, Jane veered between rage at Chuck and the desire to cry. Darcy’s twinkle lights still twinkled around the electric fireplace; she’d put up a different photo of Brock on the fridge and drawn a new little flower on the chalkboard she kept for lists in the kitchen recently. Jane saw that one of her scarves had fallen off her hook by the door. She hung it back up to hide her blinking back tears as Jack opened Darcy’s safe. “What are you looking for again?” Jane asked him.

“It’s a piece of old SHIELD equipment. A sight you can put on your gun, so it can see bodies through walls. Very useful and difficult to get ahold of,” he said. “We lost the construction information when the building went in DC, so they’re more valuable than titanium at this point.”

“You don’t have one?” Jane asked.

“I did,” Jack said. “It got broken on our last mission in Europe. Completely smashed. We had Tony scan Brock’s to reverse-engineer me a new one when we first got here, but I didn’t make it a high priority, so it isn’t finished yet. I thought I wouldn’t need it. That was stupid,” Jack said grimly.

“You mean Brock left you his instead of taking it?” Jane asked. “So Tony could make you a new one?”

“No, love, he left me his in case of emergencies here, to protect you and Darcy. How in hell am I going to tell him that she was snatched by her own bloody security?” Jack said in an anguished voice. Jane squeezed his shoulder.

“We’re getting her back,” Jane said firmly. She couldn’t believe anything else and keep going. As they walked out, Jane stopped.

“What is it?” Jack asked, concerned.

“Her coffee messenger bag is here, but her small purse is gone. It isn’t in the lab, either. She must’ve taken it with her. Which means she might still have it,” Jane said hopefully.

“Why’s that important?” Jack asked.

“Because Tony made her a smaller taser for that bag, disguised as a key chain thingie. If we can get Jarvis running again, we can track it. All Tony’s mini tasers have trackers, too. Oh God, I hope she still has that bag!” Jane said. It was all she could do not to run upstairs. When she got back upstairs, she called Tony to tell him about the taser.

 

***

Brock Rumlow was on a quinjet landing in Virginia when Cameron Klein dashed out to the landing pad. “Sharon,” Lee joked, “your boy is here!”

“Shut up, Lee,” Sharon said, but she smiled at Cameron anyway. “Hey, Cam.” Sharon actually liked the sweet-faced technical analyst, but he was probably the only guy in SHIELD who’d never asked her out, made a dirty joke, or shared a gross crack about Cap and Peggy in front of Sharon.

“Hey, Sharon. Is Rumlow here?” he asked nervously. Brock Rumlow had once held a gun to his head during the whole DC undercover Hydra thing. He still made Cameron a little anxious, but Cameron was trying to impress Sharon. He was working up the nerve to ask her out. Eventually, he thought he’d get there.

“Yeah, Klein?” Brock said, appearing from inside the quinjet. He was carrying his bags. He believed in carrying his own shit.

“There’s a call for you? From Phil?” Klein said.

“I’ll call him back,” Brock said.

“It’s an emergency? Something about someone named Lewis being kidnapped?” Klein said, swallowing.

“Who?” Sharon said.

“A guy named Lewis?” Klein stammered anxiously.

“Darcy?” Sharon said in horror. She turned to look at Brock, but he was already heading for the door. Inside he met his boss at Langley.

“Got a call from Coulson. Family emergency. Be back when I can,” Brock told him, before jogging towards the exit nearest his car.

"Hey, you can't just walk off before debrief!" his boss yelled.

"Fire me!" Brock said back. Once he got in the car, he hit a button to call Stark and Jack simultaneously. “I’m in Virginia. Five hours away. Can somebody send a quinjet? I’ll meet them ‘em in route,” he told them.

“You’re in luck,” Tony said. “We’re headed your way. We were over West Virginia headed back to the Tower when her tracker pinged in Virginia.”

“Where in Virginia?” Brock said grimly.

"Along the coast," Tony said. He named a street. "It looks like a beach house?"

"I know where she is," Brock said. "It's one of the Hydra safe houses they set up especially for Pierce."

"We'll pass right over you in eighteen minutes. Can you get to that field just off the next exit?" Tony asked.

"Yeah," Brock said. 

***

Darcy woke up in an old Hydra safehouse. She was locked in an empty room. Above her head, there was one bulb in the light fixture in the ceiling, but nothing else. The windows had been covered with expensive-looking shutters on the outside, as if the house was ready for a hurricane or unoccupied for long periods. Like a beach house, Darcy thought oddly. She wiggled out of the loose zip ties that held her hands. It was a good thing that she and Jane had practiced after the Grant Ward situation. If she lived, she was never having a security guy again. At this point, two of them had been Hydra. It was just then that Darcy realized she still had her small bag with her key chain. Chuck wasn’t very bright, she thought, or he thought she wasn’t. Darcy suspected terminal arrogance was a typical Hydra guy trait.

She used the set of keys to cut away the zip ties about her ankles. She gouged her skin once, but it was worth it to be able to move her legs again. Kicking her numb legs until she got feeling back, she muttered curses in Italian. She’d retwisted her ankle--an old injury from Puente Antiguo--trying to fight off Chuck. Then Darcy crawled over to the window and leaned her nose against the windowsill. Very few windows were actually air-tight. She could smell salt air. She was somewhere near the ocean. _“Il mare,”_ her brain supplied reflexively. “Gee, thanks, brain,” she muttered aloud to herself, “but it would be more helpful if I could come up with an escape plan, not Italian vocab.” She sighed. It was times like this when she wished she had actual Minions.

A lightbulb went off in her mind and Darcy moved over the side of the room nearest the door, turning off the light. Dumbass Hydra hadn’t even bothered to do anything to the switch. When she heard footsteps, she reached inside her bag for the Minion keychain that disguised her mini taser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know Alexander Pierce had some swanky safe houses.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keychain Stuart to the rescue!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for your comments and kudos!

When Chuck pushed open the door a fraction and then called “Darcy?” as he stepped inside, she tased him with Keychain Stuart as best she could. He slumped to the floor with a thud, Darcy hit the recharge switch, and stepped over him, intent on getting the hell out of there. It was a big house. She fled down a staircase, but could hear Chuck’s heavy footsteps in pursuit. “You goddammed bitch!” he was yelling.

Luckily, they seemed to be alone. Downstairs, Darcy spotted a sliding glass door and slid it open, shutting it behind her. She went around the side of the house, trying not to fall in the sand. It was a friggin beach house. Did Nazi crime actually pay, Darcy wondered. The whole street looked dark. She could hear the waves crashing on the shore in the dark, but Darcy didn’t trust her swimming ability to hide out there. But she saw that the house next door only had parking on the ground level; it was elevated. Sometimes, elevated houses had ground level outdoor closets and showers.

Darcy climbed inside a wood-walled outdoor shower and tried not to make a sound. She was shaking and holding her taser. She’d looped taser Stuart’s clasp around her watch, so she’d still have him if she lost her grip in a scuffle. She was still bruised from her last fight with Chuck. He’d hit her on the head in the lab.

“Where are you, you little bitch?” Chuck was yelling outside. Darcy hoped that if anyone was nearby, they’d call 911. She could call someone with her Stark watch, but she was afraid the light and sound would attract Chuck. When she heard him stomp off in the opposite direction, Darcy called Tony’s emergency number. He answered on the first ring.

“Darcy?” Tony said.

“Tony, I’m trying to be quiet,” Darcy whispered. “I’m in an outdoor shower at the house next door to a Hydra safe house. It’s at a beach somewhere.”

“We’ve got your coordinates,” Tony said quietly. “We’ll be there in five minutes, just stay quiet, okay?”

“Okay,” Darcy said. Before she ended the call on the watch, she heard a familiar voice in the background.

“Goddammit, let me talk to her,” Brock was saying to Tony as Tony shushed him. “Baby,” Brock’s voice said suddenly, “I’ll be there, okay? Please be careful. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Darcy whispered. She was about to stay something else when the door to the shower was yanked open. Darcy screamed and pressed the button on the taser, getting Chuck in the chest. As he jerked backwards, his gun fired wildly and a bullet grazed her arm. That was the last sound anyone on the quinjet heard.

 

*** 

Back in New York, Jane and Jack were watching a video feed of the inside of the quinjet. They heard Darcy’s scream, saw Tony rub his forehead in frustration, Steve’s determined, but upset face, and Bucky’s shift back to a frighteningly blank expression that was eerily like the Winter Soldier. Brock was swearing and shaking. “I can’t just sit here,” he yelled, bolting out of his chair. “How fucking long?”

“Three and a half minutes,” Natasha told him. “Calm yourself.”

“Do you and Jane think you can get Jarvis up and running?” Tony asked Jack, once Brock was pacing behind him. When they’d pinged Darcy’s signal in Virginia, Tony had turned the quinjet around. That left Jack in charge of Tower security until the team returned.

“I can try,” Jack said.

“Yes,” Jane said quietly. “Get someone to walk us through it.”

“I’ve got a Rhodey calling you in two minutes,” Tony announced. “We’re almost there.”

“Save my friend, Tony Stark,” Jane said to him firmly. “Don’t come back without her, understood?”

“Gotcha,” Tony said. “We’re landing now.”

Jack had barricaded himself and Jane in the labs, just to be safe. Rhodey--on the phone from DC--helped them decipher Tony’s instructions for resetting Jarvis. “This is gonna work man,” Rhodey told Jack calmingly. Jane had taken over operations.

“My nerves are shot, mate,” Jack confessed. “I’m out of practice with this game. Just waiting for someone to burst out like in a Stephen King movie.” Jack had never had anyone he cared about like he did for Jane, either. And that made Darcy his virtual sister-in-law on two counts. Jack desperately wanted her to be okay.

“Got it,” Jane announced. If this crisis had made Jack unusually anxious, it had turned Jane steely and determined.

***

Once he was on the  ground, Darcy grabbed Chuck’s gun and ran down the middle of the street. She was hoping to stop a car or a person. She could still hear Chuck cursing and screaming in pain somewhere behind her. In front of her, the quinjet appeared in the sky. But the powerlines on the beach road meant it couldn’t land on the street. Then she heard footsteps pounding on the pavement behind her. An arm seized her around the neck. Darcy shoved the gun against Chuck’s ribs with her hand and pulled the trigger. It clicked--empty. Chuck began hysterically laughing as Darcy hit him in the ribs with the gun. His arm around her neck tightened.

 

Rumlow had already yanked the lever that lowered the quinjet’s ramp. Tony and Cap were preparing to jump, when Rumlow knelt with his gun at the edge of the hole. “I can make the shot,” Rumlow yelled.

“Have you lost your mind?” Tony said.

“Fly low,” Steve called crisply to Nat. “I trust him.” Steve might not like Brock Rumlow particularly, but he was the best shot in SHIELD since Peggy Carter had retired.

“I’m Iron Man, dammit, the suit was made for this,” Tony said.

“Tony, no,” Natasha and Bruce scolded him simultaneously.

Darcy was flailing and swinging her legs at Chuck as he squeezed her throat. She could feel herself losing the fight. A second later, there was a crack and Chuck was falling backward. Darcy landed with a thump and started coughing as she pushed Chuck’s heavy arm off her neck. She gagged and rolled onto the damp pavement. When she looked back at Chuck, there was a neat hole in the center of his forehead. He was dead. She was pretty sure. But she scrambled up and backed away, just to be safe. A second later, Tony landed next to her. “Hey, Itty Bitty,” he said. “I heard you need a ride?”

When Tony had deposited her gently on the floor of the quinjet, Darcy practically fell into Brock’s arms. Everyone had the decency to look away while the both of them cried.

 

Natasha flew Darcy and Brock to the nearest hospital with Bruce and Bucky. They’d left Steve and Tony behind to rendezvous with the police and Phil’s SHIELD team. The Bus had arrived by the time the doctors gave Darcy medication for her ankle and released her, so Brock loaded her back on the quinjet and they returned to the beach to pick up Steve and Tony and then go home to the Tower. With Jarvis reestablished, they were getting regular updates from Jane. Nothing seemed to be occurring at the Tower.

“Oh my God,” Darcy said from a cot on the quinjet. “You shot a guy from a plane. In the dark!”

“I know it was a risk, honey, but I had the shot,” Brock said tenderly. He was holding her hand and stroking her arm.

“No, it was totally badass,” Darcy said. “You’re, like, amazing. You shot a guy _from a plane in the dark!_ Also, your abs are amazing and you have this face?” She squeezed his cheeks with her hand and giggled.

“Your pain meds have hit, haven’t they?” he asked, chuckling.

“Uh-huh,” she said. “Nat looked at ‘em mean, so they gave me the good stuff.”

“Get some rest,” he told her. “I’ll stay with you.”

“How did I get so luckyyyyyyyyy?” Darcy slurred a few minutes later. “You’re like, stupid hot? Why are you with me again?”

“Because I love you,” he said softly.

“Yeah, you do,” she said, nodding seriously. “You love meeeeeeeeeee and my squishiness.” She laughed. “Squish,” she said. “It’s a fun word to say. Squish.”

“It’s very fun,” he said, smiling wryly.

“You love me!” she said again.

“I’m crazy about you,” he said seriously.

“Did you steal my Stuey the Minion pillow?” Darcy asked.

“I will neither confirm nor deny Stuart’s present whereabouts,” he said.

“I hope your sofa is comfortable, he has standards,” Darcy said with a slight hiccup. “Oh, no!” she moaned. “I ha-haate hiccups.”

“You need water,” Brock said firmly. He brought her a glass and she sipped it.

“That’s better,” Darcy said. “You’re so pretty. You have a pretty face.”

“I do?” Brock said, raising an eyebrow.

A passing Bucky laughed at Darcy, then looked at Brock. “That was a good shot,” he said.

“Heyyyyy, Bucky,” Darcy said, giving him a wave with both hands. “Buck. Bucko. Buckaroo.”

“You probably could have done it, too,” Brock acknowledged to Bucky. He turned back to the cot when he felt something brush his arm. He grinned at Darcy. She was batting at him like a kitten.

“Hey,” she said. “You’re back.”

“I am,” Brock said.

“Keep an eye on her,” Bucky said, chuckling and walking away.

“I like your new haircut,” Darcy told Brock, mussing his hair. “It’s all long on the top now. Pretty pretty.”

“You like that, huh?” he said, grinning, as she pulled the hair down over his forehead.

“I looooooove the Elvis hair,” she said, nodding. “So shiny. My boyfriend is prettyyyyyyy.”

“Thank you,” he said politely.

“Kiss me,” Darcy said.

“You probably shouldn’t be kissing in your condition,” he said dryly.

“Pretty please?” she said.

“Okay, fine, you win,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. When his hair brushed her face, she giggled.

“Tickles,” she told him. “Nice tickles. I loooooove you,” she slurred.

“No, I love you,” he said.

“Shut up,” Darcy said. “You’re so silly. Silly pretty.” She was still muttering about “pretty hair” when she fell asleep.

 

***

“It’s good to have you back, mate,” Jack told Brock, once they’d landed in New York and Darcy was safely tucked in bed. The Tower had been declared an all-clear zone; Jarvis had done a trace and figured out Chuck only had the one partner, so Jack was returning all the gun equipment to Brock’s safe in the apartment.

“Glad you didn’t need to use that,” Brock commented. He was having a cup of Darcy’s good coffee and helping Jack check all the equipment.

“I’m a mess,” Jack confided. “My heart’s not in this kind of work anymore. Jane was the calm one, I was falling apart.”

“You look fine,” Brock said, grinning. He’d already bet Tony $20 bucks that Jack’s self-confessed shakiness was more in his head than anything else; they were going to review the tapes together and have Nat be the judge for how jumpy he’d been.

“Are you leaving or staying?” Jack asked suddenly, as the last gun went back in the wall.

“Technically, I’m in the middle of three ops,” Brock said. “So, I should go back as soon as Darcy’s awake.”

“But you don’t want to?” Jack said gently.

“Nope,” Brock said. “When I’ve fulfilled my obligations at Langley, I’m never leaving her again. You’re gonna be sick of me, pal.”

“Sounds good,” Jack said. “By the way, your stepfather wants me to be the lawn king of Connecticut.”

“Fine by me,” Brock said.

“Also, I called your mum an hour ago. She and Fal are coming up to see you tomorrow, mate,” Jack said.

“Pushing your luck, huh?” Brock said wryly, refilling his coffee. “Or do you really want to become the heir to the lawn kingdom of Westport?” Jack barked out a laugh.

“Brock?” Darcy called from her bedroom.

“I’ll leave you two alone, mate,” Jack said, winking.

 

When Brock carried his coffee into the bedroom, Darcy smiled up at him. “I wanted to see your pretty face,” she said.

“My pretty face?” he asked.

“Uh-huh. Can I have some of that coffee, too?” she asked.

“Yeah, just be careful, it’s hot,” he told her. “You feel sober yet?”

“Sort of. I keep expecting you to disappear,” she said. “Like you’re a dream.”

“I’m not going anywhere tonight,” he said.

“You wanna get in bed with me?” she asked, biting her lip.

“Yeah,” he said, “but you’re not sober enough to fool around,” he told her.

“Phhhhft,” she said, sticking out her tongue.

“See? Definitely not sober. I have morals. I don’t take advantage of women who won’t remember how good I am in the morning.”

“Oh my God, I’ve missed you so much. Does that mean I get cuddles and snuggles?” Darcy asked.

“All the snuggles, _fragolina,_ ” he told her, climbing in next to her and kissing her tenderly.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all the comments and kudos!

When Darcy woke up in the morning, Brock was snoring gently next to her. She’d almost thought it was all a dream. “You’re actually here,” she practically squealed, peppering his face with kisses. “You’re here!” she said.

“You’re still pill drunk, aren’t you?” he asked, chuckling, even with closed eyes.

“I’m just stupid happy,” she told him, nuzzling against his neck. He sighed. It was a happy sort of sigh, Darcy thought. She wiggled on top of him and he opened one eye.

“What are you doing?” he said.

“Taking my clothes off,” she said. “Then yours.” She pulled her nightshirt over her head. He grinned.

“I haven’t even been home a day and you’re already taking advantage of me,” he said as she peeled his shirt off.

“God, your body is amazing, I feel like I don’t tell you that enough, you work so hard at being fit,” she said, running her hands over his torso. “Amazing amazing. I should tell you that more,” she said. He laughed.

“I can tell you’ve missed me, you’re being too damn nice,” he said.

“What? I can’t be nice?” she said.

“Your hair is pretty, your face is prettttttty,” he fake slurred as he put his hands on her hips.

“Shut up and take off your pants, Grumpy Cat,” she said, playfully slapping at his arm. “You should be having sex with me now, anyway. I’ve just had a near-death experience, I need to carpe the diem out of your fine booty.”

He burst into laughter. “My fine booty?” he said. He was laughing so hard, he pulled her down against his chest and held her close for a minute. “I missed you,” he said in her ear.

 

***

They had to crawl out of bed that afternoon because his mother and sister arrived. “I’m doing this under duress,” he grumbled.

“You can’t brunch under duress, it’s an oxymoron,” Darcy told him, looking for something to wear.

“I haven’t seen you in months and you almost died,” he said. “I should at least get to spend the day alone with you.”

“I wasn’t even half-dead, much less almost dead,” Darcy said. “I have a tiny head wound, a sprained ankle, and a little bullet graze, it’s like, super minor. I’ve had worse injuries from slipping in the lab on Jane’s homemade hippie gadget grease. Did you know that’s why the lab smells like coconuts now?”

“Uh-huh,” he said. “That’s how you’re going to play this, huh?” he asked. “Because I have not forgotten how that Hydra motherfucker took you from your own home, stuffed you in a box, and was trying to cut off your air supply when I shot him in the head,” he said grimly. Darcy came over and hugged him. She was half-dressed.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m okay. Don’t worry.” She squeezed him a little. Some of the tension ebbed out of his body.

“Are you trying to comfort me with your ample bosom?” he said, chuckling. He nuzzled at her cleavage. “I should show emotion more.”

“When are you going back?” she asked suddenly, swallowing.

“I dunno,” he said, tensing again. “The boss wants me back as soon as possible. I’m trying to hideout for a few days. I don’t want to go back to Langley,” he said.

“You don’t?” she said. “I thought you wanted to be back in the field?”

“Not anymore. I’m done with all that. Once I’m back here, with you, I’m back for good, okay? I’m never leaving again,” he said seriously. “If you’ll have me?”

“Of course I will, you idiot,” she said, kissing him.

 

“Hey, teach me some naughty Italian?” Darcy said in his ear a few minutes later. They still weren’t dressed. He groaned.

“After brunch, I will,” he said. “You’re not going to whisper things to me when I’ll have to behave.”

“Oh? Should I ask them now?” she said. _“Baciami.”_ He kissed her.

“Nobody better be asking you to kiss them in Italian class,” he grumbled. “Especially not Chuck.”

“Nope,” she said. “I learned that one on the internet.”

“Good,” he said, stroking her back. He gave her a heated look.

“I think we’re late,” Darcy said, giggling. 

“Just five more minutes,” he said. “They’ll eat without us.”

  


***

“Look, it’s the walk of shamers!” Fallon called when they entered the Avengers common room.

“It’s not a walk of shame when you live together,” Darcy said. “You look great, Fal.” Fallon was pregnant, although it was so early she wasn’t showing yet.

“Hey, Ma,” Brock said, kissing his mother on the cheek. “You both look great.”

“You’ve lost weight,” his mother said, “have you not been eating?”

“Eh,” he said, “Lots of MREs, Ma. Not exactly appetite stimulating stuff. I’ll be glad when it’s over. I’m finishing a few things at Langley and then I’m done.” He pulled Darcy closer and rubbed her shoulders.

“Do you hear him?” Fallon said. “He’s bitching about MREs and talking about coming home, Ma. Please don’t give her a heart attack, Brock,” Fallon told him. “I want her to live to see her first grandchild.”

“You mean it?” Angela said, blinking a little.

“Yeah, Ma, I do,” he said. “I had plenty of time to think in the damn desert.”

“Tony! Tony!” Angela yelled.

“Yes, future Mrs. Stark?” Tony said from the other side of the room.

“Get champagne, my son has finally decided to use his brain cells,” Angela.

"Absolutely," Tony said.

“So, we’re killing them in celebration?” Darcy overheard Bruce say to Natasha. They’d been talking to Jack and Jane about security stuff.

_“You’re cuties,”_ Darcy mouthed at the redhead and the scientist. Bruce blushed. Darcy winked at him and Natasha gave her a fleeting grin, before pulling him over to the buffet table.

“What are you doing?” Brock said in her ear.

“Making Bruce blush,” Darcy told him. “It’s fun, you should try it sometime. Flirt a little?”

“I only know how to flirt with you,” he said. “What do I do? Bat my eyelashes?” He demonstrated.

“You know, that was a passable girl Bugs Bunny. You’re in a very good mood, aren’t you?” she said.

“The best mood,” he said, tucking his chin over the crown of her head and sighing happily.

 

***

 

When they’d snuck off again that afternoon, Darcy found a package inside the kitchen. “What’s this?” she said. “I didn’t order anything.”

“I know,” he said. “I did. Had it overnighted yesterday while you were conked out on the plane. I’ll open the box for you.”

“For the millionth time, I’m perfectly safe with box cutters and Sharpies, my hand just slipped the one time in the lab, Grumpy Cat,” she said.

“Uh-huh,” he said. “I believe you, I’m just opening this for...reasons.”

“Reasons?” she said.

“Yeah,” he said, cracking open the flaps on the cardboard, once he’d sliced the tape. “Go get in bed, I’ll bring it you,” he said. “With coffee, if you want?”

“I do want,” she said. “All three.”

“Three?” he said.

“Present, coffee, you,” she said, tapping his chest with her index finger. She kissed him lightly and practically skipped to the bedroom. “Ow!” she said suddenly from inside the bedroom.

“Stub your toe again when you tried to skip?” he asked, as he put the little jewelry box in his pocket.

“Maybe?” Darcy called. “I’m bad at skipping.”

“I’ll bring you that coffee,” he said, chuckling.

 

When he climbed in bed with her--carefully handing her a cup of coffee--he grinned. “Which gift did you want first? The one in the box or me?” he teased.

“I could never pick. Surprise me?” she asked, laughing.

“Okay, unwrap your present first,” he said, taking it out of his pocket and putting it in her lap. “Then me.”

“You’re ridiculous and I love you so much,” she said, leaning her face against his.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “I love you, too. Don’t spill hot coffee on me, klutz.”

 

She opened the box. It was a little polymer clay dessert ring--a tiny waffle on a plate with a scoop of ice cream and a chocolate swirl.  “Oh my God, it’s adorable,” she said. “There’s even whipped cream and cherries.”

“Because I didn’t get to take you back for more coma waffles,” he said softly, slipping it on her finger. “I wanted to give you a little reminder that we’re going to do that, eventually. Also, I’m sorry Chuck got your eclairs.”

“That fucker,” Darcy muttered darkly.

“I can’t believe you’re more mad about your broken necklace than your injuries,” Brock scolded.

“I loved my eclairs and he murdered them with his big ass feet,” she grumbled. “I’ll heal, but he broke the first gift you ever got me. I’m holding a grudge.”

“They were important because I gave them to you?” he asked.

“Of course. They first gift is a big freaking deal,” she said. “It’s our thing, too.”

“We can have other things,” he told her. “Do you want other things? I've been thinking about that.”

“Like, go back to _Café Lalo_?” Darcy asked.

“Uh-huh,” he said. “We can do that. We’re going to do all the things we said we’d do, okay? Does the ring fit?”

“Yes,” Darcy said. The little pink band was adjustable. “I really love it,” she said. “It’s very me.”

“I know,” he said. “It was very difficult to decide between that and the fish and chips ring, honestly.” He chucked.

“They have fish and chips rings?” Darcy said, eyes widening.

“Yeah,” he said. “Did you want that for your birthday?”

“I want you more,” she said. “I want you for all my birthdays.”

“Soon,” he said.

 

He was a little further down the bed, kissing her elbow, when he stopped suddenly. “What’s wrong?” Darcy asked. She was still happily fiddling with her waffle ring.

“I’m supposed to be teaching you naughty Italian, aren’t I?” he asked, a glint in his eye.

“Yeah,” she said, grinning. “I’m a very apt pupil, by the way.”

“I know,” he said. “I get your letters. Most of your favorite words are sexy.”

“They are not,” she said.

“Sure. Last week it was _affascinante.”_

“Bewitching’s not always sexy. I was watching _Charmed,_ I looked it up,” Darcy insisted. “Totally not seductive.”

“The week before that it was _voluttuoso_ ,” he said wryly.

“Okay, voluptuous is a sexy word,” she admitted. “I might have sent that one to remind you what you were missing.”

“Like I needed a reminder?” he said, snorting. “I think,” he said, kissing the inside of her upper arm slowly, “that you might be ready for some basic phrase homework.” She nodded and grinned. “I miss making love to you is _mi manca fare l’amore con te_ ,” he said.

_“Mi manca fare l’amore con te,”_  she said seriously.

_“Sì_ ,” he said. He sucked gently at her elbow and she rocked against him instinctively. “ _Ti piace cosi?”_ he said. “You like this?”

_“Sì_ ,” she whispered. _“Molto.”_

“Hmm,” he said, kissing her belly. “You know, between the letters and the photos, I’ve been half-mad, thinking about you all the time.”

“Yeah?” she said. “Really?”

_“Ti voglio sempre,”_ he whispered in a warm voice.

“I’ll always want you, too,” she said, running her fingers through his hair.

“ _Dimmi dove vuoi che ti tocchi?”_ he asked in a more teasing voice.

“What does that mean?” Darcy said, sighing, half in pleasure and half in frustration. He was kissing up her chest. He looked up at her and grinned.

“Tell me where you want me to touch you, baby?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The waffle ring! https://www.jilliciouscharms.com/collections/rings/products/dessert-crepe-ring


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all the comments and kudos!

They had a blissful two days together, before he left on another quinjet. “I’ll be back soon,  _ fragolina, _ ” he said. “As soon as I wrap up these jobs. I’ll call when I’m on my way back. We’ll be together.  _ Sempre. _ ”

“I love you,” Darcy said, leaning against his neck for a minute. 

“ _ Aspettami _ ,” he said.

_ “Aspettami _ ,” she said. She watched him jog to the quinjet and fly away. Almost as soon as he was gone, her sadness returned. Jane came out onto the helipad. She’d been giving them privacy.

“Don’t cry, sweetie. Come inside, I’ll color with you or something?” she offered.

“Can we watch Audrey Hepburn movies and sad-eat ice cream?” Darcy asked.

“If I get the Rocky Road, yes,” Jane said. She loved Rocky Road.

“That’s totes fine, you know how the almond slivers bug me,” Darcy said, wiping at her eyes.

“What do you want to watch first?” Jane asked comfortingly.

“ _ How to Steal A Million _ ,” Darcy said sniffling. “Peter O’Toole is Audrey’s sexiest love interest. God, Jane, I hope he comes home soon.”

“He will, sweetie, he will,” Jane said. 

 

***

As August rolled into September, Tony ramped up his party planning. Darcy’s birthday was October 10th. Tony seized control of operations and drafted Steve, Bucky, and even a digitally-fed in Clint to do party planning. “I want this to be a great party,” Tony announced to them. “She needs to have a good time, especially if Agent Rambo is going to be MIA. So, what do we do? I’ve got every 30-is-over-the-hill thing they make on order, even personalized epsom salts and arthritis balms, but I need pranks. You’re good at pranks. Tell me.”

“Darcybelle does need cheering up,” Steve said. “She’s been down since Rumlow left again. I was thinking we could wrap her desk again? She liked tearing off the paper last time?”

“I got wrapping paper on the desk, check,” Tony said. “What is going on behind you?” Tony asked. There were shrieks and odd sounds coming from Clint’s screen all of a sudden. 

“Kids are having a water balloon fight,” Clint said, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes.

“Make all the elevators sing Happy Birthday?” Steve suggested.

“Do you think Darce would like water balloons?” Clint mused. “Or bubbles?”

“She loves bubbles,” Steve said. “I know that.”

“I wonder if they make black bubbles for being thirty?” Tony said.

“Alternate between English and Italian with the Happy Birthdays, she’ll like that,” Bucky suggested sweetly. 

“Jarvis, you got that?” Tony asked.

“Yes, sir,” the AI said.

“We need more stuff,” Tony said. “Let’s reconvene in a few weeks in-person, but handle everything by text ‘til then, okay?” Everyone nodded, even a damp Clint on the video screen. 

 

***

For some reason, the cake-tasting was the only thing that Darcy could participate in herself, in terms of her birthday party prep. Tony was being super-secretive. On September 12th (Chocolate Milkshake Day), Darcy found herself shut out of Bruce’s lab and banged on the glass. Everyone but Jane, Jack, and her were already inside. “I have the coffee cart!” she yelled. Tony grinned at her. He’d shut off the screens when he saw her coming. This was definitely, definitely a 30th birthday party planning session.

“No way, Itty Bitty,” Tony said. “Leave the cart. You’ve got a cake testing meeting in an hour and a half. Car’s waiting. Get Jane and Agent Outback and go.”

“I see what you’re doing, Tony!” Darcy said, putting her hands on her hips.

“Yeah, so?” Tony said. “Scram, kiddo.”

“Ahhhh,” Darcy said in mock-grumpiness. Then she went back to the lab. “Hey, guys,” she said, “y’all want cake?”

 

She and Jane and Jack went to Sheila’s baking kitchen and tried literally every flavor available on Tony’s dime. Sheila was very nice. “What would you like to try?” she asked.

“No fondant,” Darcy said. “I know it looks cool, but I’m a buttercream girl.”

“I like the pineapple filling with the buttercream,” Jack said thoughtfully. “It’s bonzer.”

“But the mocha frosting one with chocolate is so gooooood,” Jane said. She had a bit of frosting on her nose. Darcy laughed. 

“That’s very cute, Janey,” she said. “Has Tony given you a budget?” she asked Sheila.

“No budget. My favorite words,” Sheila said, doing a little wave. Darcy reflected that bakers seemed like happy people. 

“I think I want tiers?” Darcy said. “One chocolate and mocha tier, one pineapple and vanilla tier, and a third one.”

“Ohh, lemon filling?” Jane said. “Or that key lime?”

“Do you do strawberry filling?” Darcy asked Sheila. She wanted a little of Brock at her birthday party. He was going to be busy with work, she imagined. He’d said he’d let her know when he was free, but she’d heard nothing yet.

“I’ll get you a sample,” Sheila said.

  
  


***

 

Two weeks before her birthday, another envelope came from Brock. Inside was a jewelry box. “Oh, that looks fancy,” Jane said when she saw it. “Did he get you a really fancy polymer clay charm?” she asked. 

“Nope, it’s from an actual jeweler,” she said. Darcy felt her heart do a little lurch. She couldn’t imagine what he could get at a jeweler that wouldn’t seem too formal for her. 

“Really?” Jane said, putting down her paperwork and coming over. Darcy opened the box. Inside was a key necklace.

“Oh my gosh, Darcy, it’s really beautiful,” Jane said.

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “It’s surprisingly fancy, isn’t it?” The diamonds were all sparkly and there was a scattering of pretty purple stones in the bow of the key. 

“Oh my God, it’s much fancier than your princess key,” Jane said, looking at the card. 

“Princess key?” Bruce asked.

“We have matching silver key necklaces for our favorite princess,” Darcy said. 

“You have a favorite princess?” Bruce asked. “You’re adults.”

“Not  _ a _ princess, exactly,” Darcy said.

“I wouldn’t get in the middle of that one, mate,” Jack offered casually from where he was reading in the corner.

“There is only one princess,” Jane said firmly. This was an old argument between them.

“Jane just loves Belle because she wants that library,” Darcy said. “Mine is an Ariel key. I always thought  _ The Little Mermaid  _ was more fun.”

“That’s because you love shiny things like Ariel,” Jane told Darcy. “Also, you collect junk.”

“You realize that makes you either the lobster or the fish, right?” Darcy said. “Wait, you’re my lobster! Jane, you’re my lobster!”

“What?” Bruce said, befuddled.

“She’s mixing her pop culture metaphors,” Jane told him, helping Darcy put on the necklace. “This is really stunning, though. A real princess key.”

Darcy thought it was a little strange that the card didn’t say Happy Birthday and was inscribed in English instead of their usual Italian, but Jane thought it was a sweet message. The jeweler had auto-printed a line:  _ I want all my future missions to be with you. _

  
  


***

 

That week,  Darcy, Jane, and Jack went to a scientific conference in Virginia, just outside DC. The Virginia conference was one of those typical scientific events. Jane loved it, but Darcy struggled between not falling asleep during panels and fending off the advances of drunk science guys who were likely married and confused conference-going with being in Vegas. Gross. At least they could afford to stay at a good hotel now. Their conference hotel was actually part of a larger shopping complex. Instead of staying there for dinner, Darcy suggested they go to a non-hotel restaurant. They could actually walk back and forth, because it was one of those new fancy pedestrian malls with brick paths connecting everything and no car traffic. 

They’d gone to dinner and Jack and Jane were about five feet ahead of her, chatting happily about a panel. To Darcy it basically all registered as  _ sea level rise huh big words corals more big words blah Great Barrier Reef whatsits _ . Darcy was preoccupied with wondering what Brock was doing at that precise moment. Was he reading her notes? Jumping out of a plane? In the gym? Shooting thingamajigs? It was agonizing not to know. She slowed down and fell a few more feet behind Jane and Jack. There were some pretty scarves in a store window and she stopped to see them. 

Darcy was trying to see the price tag on one when a familiar face reflected in the window caught her attention. It looked like Sharon, sitting in a restaurant next door. Darcy turned. The woman who looked like Sharon smiled at the waiter and Darcy was sure it was Sharon. Darcy stood there for a second, unsure of what to do. Wave? Go in and say hello? Look for secret agents? Sharon’s waiter moved. That was when Darcy realized that it was Brock sitting next to her. He’d been blocked by the waiter. They were having dinner with another couple, clearly visible through the wide windows of the restaurant. Brock leaned over playfully and kissed Sharon’s hand, smiling at her. It was almost a Steve-like gesture. Very old-fashioned and dramatic. In response, Sharon did that ‘I’m-pretending-to-be-embarrassed-but-I’m-actually-pleased’ face. She was laughing. They were both talking to the other couple as if they were having a great time. It looked--Darcy’s brain stuttered from the shock--it looked like a date. They couldn’t be on a date? No, Darcy thought, there was no way. But, as she watched in horror, Sharon leaned over and actually kissed him. In response, Brock looked at her with an expression that Darcy didn’t recognize at all. He and Sharon had a moment of intense eye contact. He’d never looked at Darcy like that. Darcy felt sick. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They really do make Ariel and Belle princess key necklaces in silver. They're very cute! https://pin.it/6ubdpmtngmcw5e
> 
> I imagine Darcy's gift from Brock is fancier and looks something like this, only with tanzanite (purple) accents: https://pin.it/ttf4mumazujc7w


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You ever get upset and just want to run? That's what Darcy's feeling right now....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos

“Darce?” Jane called. She was standing with Jack at the corner. “You okay?” she called.

“Yeah,” Darcy said, wanting to throw up in the bushes. She was seized with panic and a sudden desire just to flee. She hurried to the corner.

“You look really pale,” Jane said, frowning.

“I do feel a little sick,” Darcy said, swallowing. “I’ll go back to the hotel by myself, okay?”

“Are you sure?” Jack asked.

“It’ll be okay,” Darcy said. “You can watch me walk back and go in. ” The hotel was only about fifty feet away.

 

***

She left a puzzled Jack and Jane in the middle of the row of stores and went back to her hotel room and threw up. Then she cried. When she when was splashing water on her face in the bathroom, she realized she was still wearing her key necklace. She looked at it again and suddenly she had a horrifying suspicion that maybe the key had been intended as a gift for Sharon in the first place. The card had that weird inscription about sharing missions, after all. Plus, it was so much more formal and expensive than anything he’d ever given her. Wasn’t it the kind of thing that Sharon would wear, not her? Had he mixed them up? She could return it to the asshole. Her nausea faded and now she was really angry. He’d been playing her for a fool this whole time. Darcy put the necklace box in her pocket and left the hotel. She marched towards the restaurant, swearing under her breath in Italian. When she turned the corner, he and Sharon were actually leaving the restaurant with the other couple. 

“Hey!” Darcy yelled. Brock turned and his face went all funny. He said something to Sharon and  the other couple, then started moving towards Darcy quickly.

“This is a surprise. We didn’t know you were here, kiddo,” he said in a louder than normal voice. When he reached her, he embraced her in a big hug. 

“Don’t touch me,” Darcy said, practically spitting out the words. She swore at him quietly in Italian, the worst curses she knew. 

“Come here,” he said, pulling her a little to the side in the guise of an enthusiastic hug, so she wasn’t as visible. 

“I’m just here to return your necklace,” she said viciously, shoving it against his chest. “You meant it for Sharon, didn’t you? How did she take it when she ended up with my gift?”

  
“Listen very carefully,” he said in her ear. “We’re working. There is a van full of federal agents fifteen feet away. I’m mic’d, so they just heard you tell me to go fuck myself in very good Italian. I want you to turn right and walk twenty feet, okay? The man with us is a very nasty arms dealer who thinks you’re my cousin,” he said. “I do not want him to get a good look at your face.”

“Go to hell,” Darcy muttered. 

“I’ll be there in a minute. Take  _ this  _ with you,” he said casually, palming the necklace like a pickpocket and then sliding into her bag. He pulled away from the hug and gave her a fleeting heated look. He must be really upset over having to explain it to Sharon, Darcy thought.

Darcy turned, catching a glimpse of Sharon, who waved and smiled with her agent face on. Darcy did a gesture that was decidedly rude in Italian but could be mistaken for a limp wave and stomped the twenty feet to the right. She was still mad. She stood there stewing for fifteen minutes. 

 

 

Brock appeared, reached under his shirt, and removed a wire. A guy walked up and took the wire from him. “Thanks,” Brock said, nodding. Once the guy left, he turned and looked at Darcy.

“I hate you,” she told him. He flinched. 

“I just took off a wire and you still think I’m with her?” he asked. “You know I love you,” he said. He moved closer to her.

“You were kissing her in the damn restaurant,” Darcy said.

“You saw that?” he asked.

“I was just walking along, looking at scarves in a goddamn window, okay?” she said, feeling hysterical. Her voice had risen.

“I’m sure that was upsetting, but I promise you, it was for work,” he said quietly. He reached out to touch her, but she stepped back.

“Oh, yeah, it looked like a real chore,” she said sarcastically. 

“We were undercover, Darcy, it means nothing,” he said. He never called her Darcy.

“How nice,” Darcy said. “It’s probably really easy for you.” 

“Don’t be like this,” he said. “I love you,” he said. “It’s work, okay? It doesn’t mean anything.”

“You keep saying that like it ought to reassure me, but it’s bullshit,” Darcy told him. “Utter bullshit.”

“It doesn’t matter at all, it means nothing,” he said again. “Baby, please.”

“You kept it a secret! Secrets mean something. They _always_ mean something,” she said, starting to cry again. “Take this, I’m going,” she said, handing him the necklace box. “Give it to your current fake girlfriend. It’s much more her than me, anyway.”

  
  


***

“Wait, what’s going on? Why are you here?” Jane asked Sharon Carter. She and Jack had returned to the hotel and found Brock in the lobby, along with Sharon and several other agents. The other agents were trying to prevent a pacing Brock from yelling at the manager who wouldn’t give him Darcy’s room number. He hadn’t yet seen Jane and Jack.

“Work thing,” Sharon said cryptically. “Brock and I were having dinner with a contact.”

“You were pretending to be a couple, weren’t you?” Jack said in a grim voice. At Jane’s raised eyebrow, he said, “how do you think they ended up together, love?”

“Darcy, uh, saw us and got upset,” Sharon admitted. 

“Saw you what?” Jane asked.

“At it like eels, would be my guess,” Jack said bitterly. “Were you making out at the damn dinner table?” he called to Brock.

At the sound of his voice, Brock turned and practically sprinted across the lobby. “What room is she in?” he asked.

“She saw you kissing Sharon?” Jane asked in a cold voice.

“It doesn’t--,” he began.

“Did she see you kissing Sharon?” Jane asked again.

“Yeah,” he said, shoulders sagging. “But I’m telling you, it means nothing--” Jane’s slap echoed across the lobby. The hotel staff looked up in concern. Jane could pack a wallop for a petite woman.

“You hurt my friend,” Jane told him sharply. “There are no excuses for that. Let’s go,” she said to Jack. The two of them headed upstairs.

“Jane, please,” Brock said, “tell me what room she’s in?” Jack looked at Jane.

“Have pity on him, love,” Jack said.

“It’s 413,” Jane said. “She’s right across from us. You’ve got five minutes before I kick you out to comfort her myself.”

 

***  
  


Darcy was crying in her room again, when there was a familiar knock at her hotel room door. “Go away,” Darcy said. “I never want to speak to you again.” She walked over to the door and looked through the peephole. Brock was standing there, nervously shifting his weight back and forth.

“Open the damn door,” Brock said. “I bought that necklace for you, Lewis,” he said quietly. She could tell he was leaning against the door. 

“Sure you did. What’d she get, a little clay unicorn charm? An apple pie? I bet that threw her for a loop,” Darcy said bitterly. She stared at the weird patterns in the hotel carpet.

“Thirty’s a big birthday, I wanted you to have something special. I know you don’t like your birthstone, so I thought you’d like a new one,” he said. He wasn’t wrong; Darcy really hated opals. 

“If I look it up, am I going to find out that tanzanite is Sharon’s birthstone?” she asked.

“No,” he said quietly, “Or, I don’t know, okay? I have no idea when her birthday is. Lewis, my birthday’s in December. I gave you my birthstone, all right? If I was a girl or a guy who liked to wear pinky rings or some shit. You don’t like yours, so I thought you could have mine.”

“Oh,” Darcy said flatly. She’d known his birthday was in December, but it hadn’t occurred to her. “You just decided to spring for something fancy, huh?” she said.

“Look, I see how people look at the polymer clay stuff. You like it and I’m happy if you’re happy. But I’ve got my pride. I know people assume I’m cheap. Just once, I wanted to give you something really nice, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Darcy said. She leaned against the door.

“I’m sorry about the restaurant thing,” he said, sighing. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“How is that an apology?” Darcy said loudly. 

“I’m sorry, baby. Look, just open the door and we’ll talk,” he said. “This is embarrassing. People are staring at me out here. C’mon.”

“No,” she said back. “I’m still not over the sight of you sucking on Sharon’s face.”

“I promise you, it doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m going to leave your necklace with Jane, they’re in their room,” he said. “I have to go debrief, okay? I’ll be back in an hour.”

“You’re leaving now?” she said, incredulous.

“I’ll be back,” he said. She heard his footsteps retreat and immediately started throwing things in her travel bag. She texted Jane.

 

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** I need to leave. I need someone to drive me to the airport. Or the train station or whatever.

**Astro-mazing Scientist:** I understand if you can’t stand to stay, but Darce, I talked to Sharon. She’s not dating him.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** Sure.

**Astro-mazing Scientist:** I sort of yelled at her and Brock a little. I might have slapped him.

Just then, she heard Jane’s knock on the door. When Darcy opened it, she burst into tears again.

“Oh, honey,” Jane said, embracing her. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d seen that?”

“I couldn’t, I couldn’t,” Darcy said, sobbing. “It hurt too much. I was so upset, I came back here and threw up.” 

“It’s going to be okay, sweetie,” Jane said. Eventually, Jane talked her into staying, promising that Jack was talking to Brock and that they could avoid him, if that was what Darcy wanted. “If you never want to see him again, we’ll make him leave, okay?” Jane said.

“I don’t know what I want,” Darcy said. She’d started to feel numb and exhausted.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Jane said gently. “You want something to eat?”

“I feel too sick to eat,” Darcy told her. 

Jane nodded in understanding. Darcy had taken care of her when Thor left--and left again. Jane had tried to pretend she was fine, gone on Science! Benders, and eventually crashed and cried in bed for days. “What about a bath?” Jane said. 

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “I think I irritated my ankle stomping back here, too.” Jane ran Darcy a bath with bubbles and Epsom salts, then stayed in her room to pick out her pajamas while Darcy washed her hair and scrubbed the gross feeling off her skin. Jane knew she hated throwing up. 

“Darce, I got your pjs,” Jane said, sticking her arm into the bathroom and hanging them on the door hook.

“Thanks, Jane,” Darcy said. She sloshed out of the bath, got dressed for bed, and brushed her teeth. Jane was waiting when she came out.

“Do you want a snack?” Jane asked. Darcy shook her head.

“I’ll wait until breakfast,” she said, crawling into bed. “I don’t feel up to talking to Brock tonight, either.”

“I’m really sorry, Darce,” Jane said, hugging her and kissing her forehead before she left. Darcy was so drained, she immediately fell asleep.

 

***

Jack stopped Brock at the hotel after the debrief. “Jane’s with her now,” he said. “She texted me. You should give them some time. Maybe wait ‘til morning?” Jack said quietly. Brock nodded.

“I can’t look at it,” Brock said quietly. “Lee has it on his laptop, but I can’t look it at again.”

“What?” Jack said, confused.

“The surveillance footage,” Brock said. “I need you to tell me exactly what Darcy saw. Can you do that for me?” His jaw was tight. 

“Yeah, mate,” Jack said sadly. The two men walked downstairs and went to the van, still parked outside. Brock swung the door open and told Jack he’d wait outside. Jack climbed in the van, looked at his friend pacing in the parking lot, and sighed, shutting the door.

“Hey, man!” the guy at the laptop said to Jack cheerfully. He was wearing a t-shirt with the logo of a frozen yogurt business. “I’m Mike. Mike Lee.” They shook hands. 

“Jack Rollins.”

“Cool accent, man. You were SHIELD, too? This is some shit, ain’t it? Can you believe Rumlow’s fucking luck? He don’t even look at Sharon normally, but the one time they’re pretending to be a couple, his lady sees them together? His girl is fiiiine though. You think she looks like Katy Perry? She’s got the glitter in her hair and the, uh, assets and whatnot? Peterson doesn’t think so, but that man has no taste and, anyway, he can’t see. I’ve seen his glasses and they’re like”--he gestured with his hands, as if he was holding them out-- “whoa, blind.”

“He doesn’t look at Sharon?” Jack asked carefully. That was a salient piece of information he could take back to Jane and Darcy.

“Nah, man, he don’t,” Lee said. “I mean, I know they used to have a thing, but he treats her just like he treats me. Nothing going on there. She’s supposedly maybe going on a date with Cameron Klein sometime. Wouldn’t give me the time of day, even though I’m a much better programmer than he is, I mean, dude’s nice and all, but he ain’t that special. Her loss, you know?”

“Uh-huh,” Jack said neutrally. “Can you play me the tapes?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” he said. “Here’s the big moment.” He pressed some buttons on the laptop and video appeared on the screen. “There’s the arms dealer and his wife, Brock and Sharon. And, hey, there you are, walking by, looking all loved up. Very cozy. Big smiles. Is that your lady? Brock says she’s a scientist. Man, I shoulda taken more science. I never had a science teacher that fine. They should give her a TV show, you know?”

“Sure,” Jack said, laughing. This was a detail he was not passing onto Jane.

“And here’s Rumlow’s girlfriend,” Mike said. “Is she wearing a Minion t-shirt? That’s cute. She is a total Katy Perry. Dude, I never would have pictured him with a girl like that. He’s so, like, together and organized and shit. He wears black all the damn time, too. How’d they end up together?” 

Jack perked up; he had a whole elaborate theory about that he wanted to share with someone beyond Jane. They’d discussed it multiple times, but new input was always good. Data, after all. “Well, I have an idea that,” Jack began, but Mike cut him off.

“Here’s the sad part, my man. This is when she sees them together. Shit, that is sad. Her whole face just goes  _ whoosh _ when she sees Sharon kissing him, it’s awful,” Mike said. “It’s rough to watch. Rumlow could barely stand to watch it once.”

“He saw it?” Jack asked, surprised. He’d thought Brock hadn’t seen it at all.

“Yeah, he had to leave after he saw her and everything, I think he’s hoping you’ll be able to tell her how upset he was afterwards,” Mike said. The footage of an upset Rumlow pacing around after the arms dealer left was pretty sad, too.

“How did he react?” Jack said.

“Oh, man, he was so messed up. The kiss was off-script, too,” Mike said.

“Not planned?” Jack said.

“He didn’t agree to that?” Jack said.

“Nope,” Mike said. “They were just supposed to do the hand thing. She surprised him. Improv, I guess? The man has the shittiest luck. His surprised face is freaky man. He goes all intense. You’d almost think he was into it, if you didn’t know that was also his pissed off face? He gets that same look whenever somebody pulls a gun on him.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. He recognized Brock’s pissed off face, but it hit him--with a sickening sort of mental thud--that Brock had probably never really been angry with Darcy. He teased her, he bickered, yes, but he was actually soft with her, for him. She wouldn't know what it meant.

  
  


***

Brock saw Sharon as she was crossing the parking lot to get to a waiting rental car. She stopped and spoke to him. “I’m sorry. I really am,” she said. “I fucked up and got carried away and now it’s messed up your life,” she said, her voice cracking. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“It’s really not your fault,” he said quietly. His anger had ebbed away.

“How do you figure that? I feel responsible for crossing a boundary,” she said, crossing her arms and looking down. “And, of course, it’s the worst possible time, because that’s my luck.”

“I’ll admit I was angry at first, but this is on me. Because I didn’t tell her we’d be doing this,” he said. “Like an idiot, I kept it a secret. She was smart enough to see that. So, now it looks worse than it is.”

“Oh,” Sharon said.

“So, it’s my fault, really. You know why I kept it a secret, Sharon?” he asked in a rough voice. She looked up at him, surprised by the rawness of his tone.

“No,” she said, confused.

“I just realized. In case we slipped. Because that’s the kind of guy I’ve always been. The kind of guy who might make a mistake in Algiers or Budapest, one night when the liquor flowed too much and the stories went on too long,” he said. “I wanted to be able to hide it, you know? I would have fucked up eventually.” He rubbed his jaw and shrugged. 

Sharon looked at him for a long moment, assessing. If Steve had been there, he would have said her expression had an uncanny resemblance to Peggy’s that he’d never seen Sharon get before. “I don’t actually believe that,” she said quietly. “I’ve watched you enough to know. Don’t give up on this relationship so easily.”

“I don’t think it’s up to me,” he called as Sharon left. Her shoes clicked on the pavement in the dark. She turned back and looked at him.

“Isn’t it? Don’t you have a chance to finally prove you aren’t that guy anymore?” she said.

“Oh, yeah,” he said sarcastically. “Sure.”

“You better. That asshole broke my heart, Rumlow,” she said. “Don’t do the same thing to her by just disappearing.”


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meant To Be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos!

Darcy woke up to knocking at her door. It was 10am. She’d slept until her throat was dry. She put her glasses on and stumbled to the door. She was expecting Jane, so she swung the door open. “Hey,” Brock said. He was standing there with a room service guy and a cart. “I got you breakfast,” he said, handing the guy a tip. “I heard you didn’t eat. I brought pumpkin spice waffles and coffee, baby.”

“Are you trying to bribe your way in my room?” she asked in a sleep-roughened voice.

“You sound sick,” he said. “Here, let me get this inside and I’ll help you with breakfast.” She decided to let him in. She was too tired to argue in front of room service. “You’re limping a little,” he said. “Your ankle flare up again?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” she said, sitting down on the side of the unmade bed. He fussed over her, fluffing her pillows and making her coffee while she glared daggers at him. 

“You wanna eat these in bed? You should elevate that to help with the swelling,” he said, looking at her ankle critically. “I’ll get ice,” he said. He left the room and came back with ice from the hallway machine.

“Why are you here? Don’t you have some top secret mission to be on? That involves pretending to be Sharon’s husband? Maybe rent a few kids?” Darcy asked sharply, stretching her feet out on the bed with a wince.

“No,” he said. “I’m here to talk. To you. Breakfast first,” he said, setting the tray on her lap. He got one of her bathroom hand towels, filled it with ice cubes and then twisted it and wrapped it around her ankle. He was very good at icing an injury, she remembered. Her brain went back to that afternoon at Lighthouse Point, when he’d held her after he bumped her head on the carousel. It seemed very, very far away.

“Talk then, asshole,” she said. “What lies are you going to tell me today?” He sighed and looked at her with a quizzical head tilt.

“What happened to that funny girl who didn’t want to argue with me?” he said wryly. “I promised her waffles.” He was rubbing her other foot and staring at her affectionately while she ate them. She was feeling decidedly un-wonderful and spoiling for a fight.

“These waffles are delicious. What’s your other fake girlfriend having for breakfast?” she asked with acid sweetness. “I’m sure you had a great night together.”

“Lewis, goddammit, I’m not with her. I’m your boyfriend, your real boyfriend,” he said heatedly. “I’m alone in the room next door. I would have slept in the hallway to keep you from slipping off, but the hotel staff would have had me arrested.”

“Well, then, your performance last night should win you many, many acting awards,” she said tartly. “It was very believable.” She put the breakfast tray back on the cart with a clatter. He winced.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you about working with Sharon,” he said. “I’m responsible for that mistake. But you know how much I love you,” he said, stroking her calf. “Darcy,” he said intently, “I’m yours. I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?” she asked him, crossing her arms. Honestly, she was baffled and still upset. Seeing him with Sharon had hurt her deeply. What had hurt most was how real it seemed. It had her doubting everything he’d said before.

“Whatever you want, I’m committed to you. Living together, making long- term plans, I’m there,” he said.

“Whatever I want?” Darcy said.

“Yes,” he said, rubbing the back of her ankle now. “Whatever you want, I’ll do.”

“You expect me to believe you want serious commitment? Marriage?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, “With you, I could, if that’s what you want.”

“Whatever I want?” she asked again.

“Yes,” he said, “absolutely.” His gaze was intense.

“Even if I asked you to go?” she said flatly. He froze. The hand on her leg stilled and his face changed. The warm expression dropped away. Suddenly, he looked less young than he had a moment before. He looked tired. Drawn.

“If you want that,” he said. “Do you need time?”

“Time?” Darcy said.

“Don’t ask me to go forever,” he said quietly. 

“You were all ready to leave me for a year,” she said sharply. “And didn’t tell me about Sharon? How am I supposed to feel? Can you imagine what they was like for me, seeing you together?” She wanted to cry again. He shifted forward and the hand on her leg moved up and down in long, slow strokes. He cupped the back of her calf and massaged gently.

“Hey, hey,” he said in a gentle voice. “I’m a fool, but I love you, baby.  _ Ti amo, mia fragolina. Solo tu. Sei la mia vita.”  _

He put her foot down carefully and then climbed up the side of the bed next to her. “I’m your man,” he said, taking one of her hands. “I’ll keep saying that until I’m dead, okay? I want to be with you. Only you. Tell me what I need to do?” he said.

“I think you should go,” Darcy said. He paled. “Just give me some space, okay?” she asked.

“Okay,” he said slowly. He leaned over and brushed his mouth lightly against her hand. “I want you to know that I’m coming home soon, okay?” he said. 

 

As he left, he gave her a long, tender look. “I love you, Darcy,” he said. When the door shut behind him, Darcy cried. Then she texted Jane about the itinerary for the rest of the conference. They ended up deciding to leave that night. Jane let her know that Brock had checked out before she left her room again. When Darcy came out, the maids were vacuuming the room next door. 

“The man in that room, was he alone?” Darcy asked the hotel employee.

“I think so,” the woman told her. “Only one side of the bed was slept in. But he’s gone, ma’am.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. She was looking forward to getting out of this place, too.

 

***

 

The next few days passed quickly. Darcy felt oddly numb and empty. As far as Darcy knew, Brock was off somewhere with Sharon, working undercover, and Tony was still surprise birthday planning. Jane kept looking at her with concern. Finally, one afternoon, Jack asked her to go with him to the rooftop gardens. “What’s wrong?” Darcy asked him, seeing his concerned face.

“I wanted to ask you for a favor, but the timing seems cruel,” he said.

“You want me to help you pick out a ring for Jane?” Darcy guessed.

“How’d you know?” Jack asked.

“You’ve mentioned it in passing,” Darcy said, grinning. “Jack, I’d love to help!”

“Really?” he asked. “I didn’t want to upset you with what all…”

“It’s okay, really. That’s totally separate from you and Jane. I want you to be happy together,” she said. “What jewelry stores are we going to? Can we go tonight?” Darcy asked.

  
  


Darcy had a wonderful time picking out the perfect ring for Jane with Jack. They found a store that specialized in responsibly sourced diamonds and stuff. “I need a setting for a stone I already have,” Jack said.

“You have the stone?” Darcy said. “You’ve been holding out.”

“Yeah, my mum sent it on. Australian sapphire,” he said. “It’s special. Belonged to my granny. You think she’ll mind that it’s sunflower yellow?” He pulled out an envelope. Inside was a round yellow stone.

“No,” Darcy said, “I think she’ll love it. You have this for years?”

“Oh, yeah, family heirloom,” Jack said. “Why?”

“It’s Princess Belle yellow,” she told him. That made Jack start to laugh. 

“Well, then, it must be the one, darl,” he said. “Meant to be. What should we set the bloody thing in thought?”

“What about a star shaped setting?” Darcy asked the jeweler. “Do you make those? His girlfriend is an astrophysicist. She looks at the stars all day.”

 

They settled on a halo setting that made the yellow diamond look like a starburst. As they were leaving, Jack looked at her a little sadly. “I had hopes that Jane would help Brock with this for you,” he said. “One day.”

“I don’t know about that, Jack,” Darcy said, sighing.

“He does love you, Darce,” Jack told her. “Nothing happened between him and Sharon.”

“It’s the secret that bothers me. Why keep it a secret unless he thought maybe he would want to fool around with her sometime?” Darcy asked.

“Mule stupidity?” Jack offered. “Not knowing how to be in a relationship? All kinds of things, really.”

“You’ve a very good friend,” Darcy said, smiling. 

“It’s not just that,” Jack said. “I saw that surveillance footage. He was devastated. Well and truly wrecked.”

“I believe you,” Darcy said. They walked in silence for a while. “Where are you going to propose?” Darcy said, changing the subject.

“I dunno. I was thinking at a conservatory?” Jack said. “Or a museum? A science place. You don’t think she’d want it to be somewhere more normal, like a restaurant?” he asked, sounding worried.

“I bet the beach would be nice,” Darcy said, “if you can’t pick a science place. Do you want me to do some research?”

“I’d appreciate that,” Jack said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yellow Australian sapphires do exist: https://sedagems.com/shop/sapphire/yellow-sapphire/1cts-australian-yellow-sapphire/


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phone calls and fellowships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for sticking around while I neglected Angst & Cannoli Brock & Darcy, though.

“Beaches, beaches,” Darcy muttered to herself. She was sitting on her couch, trying to figure out where Jack should propose to Jane. Her laptop was plugged in and she had a pint of ice cream. Still, something was missing from her apartment. She couldn’t figure out what. “What is it?” she said out loud.

"Do you need assistance?" Jarvis asked politely.

"I need help finding a romantic beach, J-man," she said. She’d scoped out an aquarium and every Google-able beach in New York state from the Hamptons to Lake Erie with the AI, until it dawned on her. She dialed Jack’s cell phone.

“G’day, Darce,” Jack said.

“Hey, pally!” she called. “Where’s the Science Queen?”

“Still in the lab,” Jack said,

“I just had an idea. The science museum! The one we went to? She loved that one. Why not there?” she suggested.

“That’s an idea. I could give her a ring in the rock room,” he mused.

“A sparkly gem in the gem room. Or underneath the big whale,” Darcy said. “Then go to a fancy restaurant.”

“You’re the best Darce,” Jack said. He sounded happy, Darcy thought.

“When do you think you will?” Darcy asked, curious.

“As soon as I work up my nerve,” Jack said. He laughed, but he did tremble a bit.

“Remember, you’ve jumped out of planes,” Darcy told him reassuringly.

“Yeah, but I always had a parachute,” Jack said.

“I’m calling Tony,” Darcy said. “He knows the trustees. Hold on, I’ll call you back.”

“Okay, pet,” Jack said.

 

“Tony,” Darcy said.

“Hey, Itty Bitty!” Tony said. “Do you need me in the lab?”

“Nope,” Darcy said, “Jack needs you to play Cupid.”

“Oh, really?” he said curiously. “What did he do?”

Darcy laughed. “Nothing, you cynic. Our Aussie’s a good bloke. He’s popping the question,” she said. “We need you to reserve a museum and help with a restaurant.”

“Ughhh,” Tony groaned. “You’re asking me to sentence another male to a lifetime commitment?”

“Yup,” Darcy said. “With no possibility of parole.”

“The things I do for you people,” Tony said dryly.

“It’s because you love us, you wonderful man,” Darcy told him.

“Speaking of, your big birthday party is rolling along. You got any last requests?” Tony asked. “Now that you’re being sentenced to 30?”

“Nope, I trust you,” Darcy said.

“Anyone you want me to invite? Like, uh, Agent Rambo?” Tony offered.

“Tony,” Darcy began, “I’m sure he’s far away, wherever he is.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Would it hurt to ask? Are you ready to see him yet?” Tony asked.

“Okay,” Darcy said. “Invite him.”

“You’re ready?” Tony said.

“Jack wants him to be his best man, I’m sure. We gotta get on better footing. I don’t want our weird breakup bleeding into Jane’s wedding,” she said. “Plus, his mom and his sister are coming, so, you know, it would be weird for him not to.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony said. “You got all the Rumlows in the break up?”

“Pretty much,” Darcy said.

When he hung up, Tony looked at Rhodey across the card table. “Itty Bitty thinks she wants to see Rambo so ‘the weird breakup won’t bleed into J&J’s wedding,’ can you believe that?” Tony said, grinning.

“Twenty bucks says they’re screwing on the tables at that wedding,” Rhodey said.

“Twenty? Twenty’s for amateurs,” Tony said. “Why not $200?”

“Not all of us inherited money, Tony,” Rhodey said.

 

***

“Everything good?” Tony said on the cell phone.

“I’m watching them go in now,” Brock told the billionaire. He was parked outside the museum. Jane and Jack were walking up the museum steps. “Anything I need to do?”

“It’s all arranged,” Tony said. “I made some calls. After this, I got them reservations at Palais. Are you coming to Itty Bitty’s birthday party?”

“She doesn’t want me there,” Brock said quietly. He’d finished all his jobs at Langley and come back to New York. He was staying with Dave and helping out around the bakery. His pastry cream wasn’t up to snuff yet, but he hadn’t lost his ability with choux pastry. Tony was trying to convince him to help Happy run security operations for Stark, but Brock was waffling. He didn’t want Darcy to feel like he was stalking her.

“Actually, she told me to invite you. Come to the party,” Tony said, “then come work for me. If she’s unhappy, I’ll transfer you to Los Angeles or something.”

“All right,” Brock said, sighing. “Fine.” He couldn’t stay away.

“Did I mention that your whole family will be there, too?” Tony teased.

“Jesus,” Brock muttered.

 

***

Jack led her into the whale room. “Where is everyone?” Jane asked, looking around. “Why is no one else here for Night at the Museum?”

“Tony might’ve helped out, reserved the museum for us,” Jack said.

“Just us?” Jane said, delighted.

“All yours for the next, uh, three hours,” Jack said.

“Why? It’s Darcy’s birthday next week, not mine,” Jane asked quizzically.

“Well, love, it’s just that there’s something I wanted to ask you,” he said, kneeling. He opened the ring box. “Would you mind too much if I followed you around for the rest of our lives?” he asked. “Cause I don’t think I want to be anywhere but where you are, Jane Foster.”

“I wouldn't mind at all,” Jane said, beginning to cry. “Yes.”

“Yes?” he said. When she nodded and he slipped the ring on, he started to cry, too. “Oh, thank God,” he said, chuckling through his tears. “I was really afraid you might say no or hate yellow diamonds.”

“I love it,” she said. “It's perfect. You're perfect. But there’s something else. A surprise.”

“Good surprise?” he said.

“The best. I got an email today,” she said. “I got the Sydney fellowship.”

 

***

“Darce,” Jane said. “I have more news.” Darcy knew about the proposal, of course.

“News?” Darcy said. “What news?”

“Remember that year-long fellowship that I applied for as a joke? In Sydney?” Jane said.

“You got it!” Darcy said.

“I got it!” Jane said.

“I knew you would,” Darcy told her. “They’d be total idiots not to snatch you up, you’re the brilliant Jane Foster.”

“That’s the thing,” Jane said. “It would be kind of easier to go to Australia as Jane Foster-Rollins, apparently.”

“You want to get married before you go? But isn’t that in, like, three or four months?” Darcy said, shocked. It wasn’t the getting married so much as the planning, really.

“Uh-huh,” Jane said. “I know it’s asking a lot, but will you help me plan a little wedding here?”

“Yeah, of course,” Darcy said. “How little?”

“Micro. Nano. Just for fun and legal purposes. The plan is to have a big ceremony in Australia at the end of the teaching fellowship year,” Jane said, “so all Jack’s relatives don’t have to travel as far. Of course, you’ll be maid of honor at both weddings.”

“Happily,” Darcy said. “I’m going to miss you so much!”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go, too?” Jane said. “You totally can!”

“But Janey, I’ve already promised Tony I’d babysit him and Bruce if you too went off to the outback, I wrote it on that Outback Steakhouse napkin and everything,” Darcy said.

“That’s not legally binding,” Jane said.

“But this will be your honeymoon, sweetie,” Darcy said. “Don’t you want the alone time?”

“You wouldn’t have to live with us, you could get your own place, they’re paying me a lot,” Jane said.

“More than Tony’s offered me?” Darcy said. When she quoted the number, Jane actually gasped. “See?” Darcy said. “Can’t turn that down.”

 

The Little Wedding was going to be their last thing as a madcap duo for more than a year, Darcy realized, when she hung up the phone. She wasn’t going to Australia. Tony had offered her a job as the mega-coordinator for all the Stark labs if Jane got the fellowship and she’d jokingly accepted. Jane would have uni-funded student assistants in Sydney and Tony said he needed her to function now.

 

***

 

The morning of her birthday was a pretty dark day. Mostly, because Tony had covered the entire lab in Over the Hill-slash-You’re 30 merchandise. He’d filled the break room with balloons. They’d even wrapped her desk in themed wrapping paper that was black and purple.

“How did you get donuts with black glitter icing?” Darcy asked, after everyone had sung a particularly terrible rendition of “Happy Birthday” that involved Steve and Bucky doing a Howling Commandos “woooof” at the end of every verse. It was wonderful.

“It’s dark chocolate and few drops of food coloring and edible glitter, Darcybelle,” Steve said, “they’re your favorite Boston cremes.” Then a laughing Bucky shot bubbles at her from a bubble-gun. Even those had been slightly tinted.

“How did you do that?” she asked.

“We’ve been playing with food coloring,” Bucky explained.

“Yeah, just don’t ask ‘em what they’ve done with the edible glitter,” Tony cracked.

“I didn’t see you mindin’ when Pepper got here and you borrowed some,” Steve snarked back.

"Hey, Capiscle--" Tony began.

Then Clint sneakily shot one of her balloons from inside a vent and confetti fell down. “Clint!” Darcy yelled. “I didn’t know you were here!”

“We’re all here,” he said, as two tiny heads pop up next to him.

“Cooper! Lila!” Darcy said, delighted. “Where’s your mama?”

“She’s with Auntie Pep, getting ready for your party! Tony says I can be a princess,” Cooper said.

“You totally can,” Darcy told him.

“He’s very into Elsa right now,” Clint said.

“Phhft, regular princesses are dumb, I’m going to your party as Mulan,” Lila said. "I got my own bow!" Clint grinned wider. Lila was taking an interest in arrows.

 

“You don’t think they heard the glitter thing, do you?” Steve whispered anxiously to Bucky.

“Kids hear everything,” Bucky said.

 

 

***

Darcy had expected her birthday party to be all black balloons and gag gifts, but Tony threw her for a loop. He’d rented out half a hotel and turned it into 1920s Venice. There were gondoliers in the pool, bellinis everywhere, a jazz band playing Annette Hanshaw songs. It was freaking incredible. “Oh my God,” Darcy kept saying, when she walked in. “Oh my God.”

“We thought you’d like it,” Jane said. She was wearing a yellow dress that matched her engagement ring.

“Can I get you both bellinis?” Jack offered.

“Yes,” Jane said. Darcy was still in shock and not making words. “This is why I told you to wear gold and peach,” Jane said. “So, you’d match the color scheme.” Jack came back with the drinks and Darcy sipped hers. Amazing. Were these bellinis actually made with fresh peaches?

“Janey,” Darcy said, finally finding her voice, “I think Tony should plan your wedding, not me.”

“Shut up,” Jane said, laughing.

“It is amazing,” Jack said. “Actual gondolas in that Olympic-sized pool.” The Bartons cruised by, waving. Cooper had his own tiara.

“I thought Tony was going to embarrass me, not spoil me,” Darcy admitted.

“Look, there’s Angela and Fallon,” Jane said, waving.

“Go show them your ring,” Darcy told her.

“Are you sure?” Jane and Jack asked simultaneously. They were getting really in-sync. It was adorable.

“Yup,” Darcy said. People were coming up to greet her. Also, she wasn’t sure if she was quite ready to see Brock yet; for sure he was with his mom and Fallon.

Instead, she danced to “We Just Couldn’t Say Goodbye,” with Bucky and Steve. They kept jokingly cutting in with her. It was very cute. Then she chartered a gondola and convinced the two cutest gondoliers to race. That went okay until there was a minor pool-faring incident and she decided it was better if one steered her around while the other followed with a supply of food and drinks. When she finally ran into Angela and Fallon, Brock wasn’t there. He hadn’t shown, she realized. She was actually relieved. She was a little smashed now.

“Honey,” Angela said, “you look gorgeous for your first thirty. This party is fantastic!”

“It’s all Tony’s doing,” Darcy said. “He planned all of this.”

“Ma, you should run off with him,” Fallon said. “This is the best party I’ve ever seen.”

“Have you been on the gondolas yet?” Darcy asked. “You should go. Get Rodrigo, he’s the hottest one.”

“I need to take her before she gets too drunk,” Fallon said jokingly, as Angela eyed another bellini. There were several types: peach, peach-mango, and peach-pineapple. Darcy had tried them all. Several times.

“Itty Bitty!” Tony called. He had a microphone and was standing on a gondola. “We all want to wish you a happy thirtieth,” he said.

“Her first!” Angela called out and everyone laughed. There was a pretty bonkers rendition of “Happy Birthday” and Darcy cut a truly spectacular birthday cake. Tony’s cake person had done a really great job. At some point, Tony must have looked at the guest list, called her up, and doubled the number of tiers. So, she had two pieces. Maybe more. It was really big cake.

 

Darcy greeted more people, danced a few more dances, and finally snuck off to a balcony that overlooked the pool for a little breather.

 

***

She was watching Tony hijack a gondola and play-fight with Rhodey in another gondola when he came and leaned against the railing next to her. “Happy birthday, _Fragolina_ ,” Brock said.

“Hi,” Darcy said. Damn, she thought, damn and blast. He was wearing a really good suit. “I thought you weren’t here,” she said.

“I’ve been around,” he said. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and realized he was actually smoldering at her. It was like they were alone up here.

“How many bellinis have you had?” she asked, then clapped her hand over her mouth in surprise. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

“Enough to know,” he said, kissing her.

“Know what?” she asked.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said. “I can't keep giving you space. Come back to me. I’m miserable without you,” he said.

“Oh,” Darcy said, kissing him back. He tasted like the peach-pineapple bellinis.

“Also, Tony gave me a room key,” Brock said, grinning and flashing a piece of plastic. “It’s just one floor up.”

“Oh, that’s bad,” Darcy said. “Bad Tony.”

“Is it?” he said, kissing her again. “Let’s go upstairs, _Fragolina._ ”

“I have presents,” Darcy said, fighting valiantly against the urge to just let him carry her. The band was playing “Body and Soul.” Between that and his smolder, it was really too much for one little woman. Especially since she was thirty and obviously too old and frail now to offer much resistance against someone this handsome.

“I want to be your present,” he said. “If you’ll have me.”

“You want to be my present?” she said, feeling weak in the knees. He kissed her.

Below them, there was a roar as a gondola semi-capsized.

“Take me upstairs,” Darcy whispered.

 

***

To their surprise, Tony offered to host the Little Wedding. For a commitment-phobe, he was surprisingly gung-ho about the whole deal. He popped by the lab to talk to Darcy one afternoon. “Hey, Itty Bitty,” he said, “what’s your wedding budget?”

“Homemade punch and nilla wafers,” Darcy said jokingly. “I’m baking the cake myself.” That was true.

“No, no, no, call my party planner. I’ve got this all,” he said.

“Tony, they want this to be small,” Darcy said. “It’ll just be us. Avengers and New Yorkers and Jane’s mom and dad. Jack’s parents are coming to the big one in a year. It’s a wedding for funsies.”

“Even better,” he said, handing her a shiny credit card. “Do whatever they want. It’ll be my gift. I just want one thing.”

“Yeah?” Darcy said. She was expecting him to ask to host the bachelor party.

“Can I marry them? I’ve always wanted to do that,” he said.

Darcy looked at Tony’s quietly hopeful expression. “Deal,” she said. He was elated. He bounced out of the lab.

 

Jane was surprisingly sanguine when Darcy broke the news that Tony was marrying them. “That’s great,” she said. “Tell him to wear the Iron Man suit.”

“Really?” Darcy said.

“The red and gold one is my favorite,” she said cheerfully.

“Wow,” Darcy muttered. Love was making Jane all soft, really. Jane! It was so cute.

 

***

 

She went to tell Tony the good news, but ran into Brock first. He was wearing a suit. A real suit, not a metal one. “Hello,” she said.

“Hey,” he said. She hadn’t seen him since their hookup at her birthday party. She’d left before he woke up. Fled actually. He’d been doing security rotations at the SI buildings in the greater New York area, she’d found out. Mostly because he left her messages. Also, he sent cannoli. He’d accepted Tony’s job offer. She hadn’t realized that was a possibility when she’d followed him up to that hotel room and practically flung her dress off. Whoops.

“Have you seen Tony?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Haven’t seen you, though.” He was smoldering again.

“Where is Tony?” she asked.

“Upstairs,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said politely, turning towards the elevator.

“You’re just leaving?” he said, sounding nonplussed. “Are we not going to talk about anything important?”

“Nice suit,” she called back. “And congratulations on your new job.”

“Did you just use me for sex?!” he said.

“None of my other presents complain, I’d just like to point out,” she said. “They’re very compliant.”

"I still have your shoe!" he said, as the elevator doors closed.

"So that's where it was," Darcy said to JARVIS.

"I am sorry we were never able to locate it," the AI said politely.

 

***

 

She was collapsed on the couch that night when there was a knock at the door. She opened it when she realized it was Brock. He’d shed his tie. “I can be compliant,” he said. “Very.” He stepped into her apartment.

“Oh, yeah?” Darcy said.

“Mmm-hmm,” he said.

“You won’t mind rubbing my feet then?” she said, shutting the door. She was tired. And he was really good at that.

“I’d love to. I’ll even get you wine,” he said, almost purring.

“You can’t actually be turned on by my feet,” she said.

“I even like that little crooked pinky toe on your left foot, _Fragolina._ ”

“You are freaking weird,” she told him. “Nobody likes my ugly toe.”

“It’s a cute toe,” he insisted.

 

She refused to have sex with him again and he sulked very erotically while he rubbed her feet. It involved a lot of smoldering sighs and an assertion that he should keep massaging her. “Are you seriously going to do this all night?” she said, as he kneaded her calves.

“Why not?” he said.

“You have work tomorrow,” she pointed out.

“Hmm,” he said noncommittally. "I could quit, wait on you all day? I hear Tony's paying you a lot because he can't live without your coffee?"

"Please," she said, "if I wanted a house-husband, I'd go find Rodrigo."

"Who is Rodrigo?" he said, kneading a little more emphatically.

"My favorite gondolier," she told him, closing her eyes.

About five minutes later, she heard him muttering as he went to get her wine. "Fucking Rodrigo," he grumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole chapter is like one of those 1960s split-screen comedies where everyone calls one another.
> 
> Annette Hanshaw's "We Just Couldn't Say Goodbye"-- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zO4H_brqmwY


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Fine Romance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your kind comments!

The next morning, Darcy came to work in a very quiet lab. She’d finally run off a still-dressed Brock at 1am the night before. Jane and Jack were out looking at succulents. Jack wanted to do the ceremony flowers himself, bless his adorable heart. They were using orchids for the ceremony and lots of succulents in glass bowls at the reception. It was going to be pretty, Darcy thought. She’d given them the Tony credit card yesterday. Tony had called her to complain that they weren’t spending enough for a really fun wedding, so Darcy had insisted on lots of flowers. She’d told Jack to go wild. That would teach Tony.

 

There was a box on her desk. Darcy opened it. Inside was a pair of donut earrings. Boston Creme donuts. They were from Brock. Darcy picked up her desk phone and dialed the number for SI’s new head of security operations. It had been in last week’s directory updates.

“Buongiorno, dolcezza,” he said.

“You know this could qualify as harassment?” Darcy said. “And I’m not your sweetie.”

“You don’t like your donuts?” he said. “C’mon, _f_ _ragolina_ , I thought I was your pretty boyfriend?” he said teasingly.

“When did I call you pretty?” Darcy said.

“You were slightly hopped up on pain pills after your HYDRA kidnapping,” he said, turning quiet. “You said I was pretty, I told you I loved you. I still do.”

“Uhhhh,” Darcy groaned. “Stop. It’s too much.”

“Come see me? Let’s have lunch in my office, okay?” Brock said. “I’ll get you cheese fries, if you want them?”

“Ughhhhhhh,” Darcy groaned. “I’m dieting for the wedding, I can’t.”

“Who told you to diet?” he said, suddenly sounding flinty.

“Meeeeeeeeeee. I did. I hate me now,” Darcy said, sighing. She was going to have a sad desk lunch of greek yogurt and a banana. “But I don’t want to look all lumpy in the pictures, even if this is the practice wedding. Also, my GP says I’ve got high cholesterol? It’s a bummer.”

He sighed. It was an aggrieved sigh. “Come to lunch, okay?” he said.

“Okay,” Darcy said.

 

***

 

She headed up to his office at noon. He was working behind a desk. It was a nice office, she thought. He had windows and even a private bathroom. He was in one of the executive areas now. “Hey,” he said, grinning. “I wasn’t sure if you’d show, sweetheart.”

“Nice office,” Darcy told him. “Are you liking it so far?”

“Yeah,” he said. “There’s just one exception.”

“What?” she said, surprised.

“I want my girl back,” he said. “That would be you, _fragolina_.”

“You’re really serious about this?” she said.

“Yeah,” he said, a gleam in his eye.

“Anything else I need to know?” she said. He grinned.

“Oh, Jack got me an ugly plant,” Brock said. “Whatever that is?” There was a large plant in the room.

“I believe that is a ficus,” Darcy said, laughing.

“Oh?” Brock said.

“You didn’t know that was a ficus?” she said.

“Nuh-uh,” he said. “Was I supposed to?”

“It’s the office plant of the 1980s. But I think they’re unkillable,” Darcy said.

“Oh, wonderful,” he said sarcastically. “How’s your orchid?”

“Not so good,” Darcy said. Her beautiful purple orchid was struggling. “Jack thinks it has the plant equivalent of failure to thrive. We’ve tried all kinds of things, but no dice.”

“Damn,” he said. He shook his head. “I got you Greek for lunch. Chicken and Greek salad.”

“Oh, thanks,” Darcy said. She liked Greek salad. She was chewing a piece of seasoned and feta-flecked chicken when he looked at her seriously.

“Listen,” he said, “I want us to get back together. What do you want?”

“I want us to be able to get along for the Little Wedding and the Big Wedding in a year. Our best friends are going to get married,” she said. “So, we’ll both be in the wedding party. That means we’ll be seeing each other a lot. We need to be civil, at least.”

“Civil and not friendly?” he asked.

“Friendly would be good,” she admitted.

“Okay,” he said. “Are we the kind of friends who have birthday sex with each other from here on out or nah?” He grinned wickedly.

“That was a mistake,” Darcy said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“The first time or the second time?” he said.

“Shut up! We’re not doing that anymore,” she said. “We’re going to be civil _and_ clothed.”

“Do we have to?” he said, sighing.

“It’s important that we not bring our dramas into Jane and Jack’s weddings,” she said firmly. A second thought occurred to her. “What apartment are you in now?” she asked. She had no idea where he’d been living since he got into town.

“I’ve been staying with Dave,” he said.

“And commuting from the Bronx?” Darcy said, horrified.

“Yeah,” he said, eating some grilled chicken. “Why?”

“Oh,” she said. His old room in their apartment was just….there. Did he expect her to ask him to move back in?

As if he’d read her mind, he shook his head. “You don’t need to offer me a place to stay,” he said. “I don’t mind crashing on Dave’s couch. I get to spend time in the old neighborhood, see people. It’s nice to be home.”

“I’m, uh, glad?” Darcy said.

He nodded. They both ate for a bit. “Besides,” he said suddenly, grinning, “you know if I move back in, you won’t be to keep your hands off me.” He gave her a smoldering look.

“Oh em gee, are you thinking about me naked?” Darcy said. “I’m eating salad here.”

“Yeah,” he said, raking his eyes over her.  “You don’t need to lose weight, _fragolina._ ”

“My physician disagrees,” Darcy told him. He scoffed.

“I’ll report him to the medical association for malpractice,” he said.

 

“I got you some baklava,” he said, when she was done eating.

“No, no, no, I’m still suffering from birthday cake overdose,” she said.

“It’s cinnamon honey baklava with orange zest,” he said.

“Stop tempting me,” Darcy said. “I need to go back to work. I’m sure you have, you know, security stuff.” She threw her trash away.

“What are our dramas?” he said suddenly. “We don’t have dramas.”

“Sharon?” Darcy said, raising an eyebrow.

“Lives in Virginia and is finally going out with Cameron Klein, last I heard from Mike the motormouth,” Brock said smoothly. “Also, I work in your building--permanently. No more fieldwork. Those were our issues. Past tense. Why not take me back?”

“I’m leaving now,” Darcy said, getting up and walking towards his office door.

“Admit that there’s no logical reason not to take me back,” he said. “You’re just being stubborn for no good reason.”

“Definitely going now. We’re being civil and friendly with clothes, remember?” she said.

 

***

 

She’d been home for twenty minutes that night when someone knocked. It was Brock. “Hello, friend. I brought your baklava,” he said. “And I’m making caffe classico.”

“Caffe what?” she said, letting him in.

“Coffee with amaretto, _fragolina._ What’s your Italian word for today?” he asked. He had amaretto, too.

“I don’t have one,” she said.

“Sono triste,” he said. It meant ‘I’m sad.’

“Sono stanca,” Darcy told him.

“Tired, huh? Why don’t you let me give you another massage, have some baklava and a drink to relax?” he offered. “We can find you a good word.”  

“That sounds nice,” she admitted. She was actually exhausted. Tony’d had a tiny, perfectly innocent robot malfunction (sparks) that led to a small fire and then the sprinklers had wet some of her important wedding notes and paperwork. She’d had to redo it all, plus dry out some of Jane’s equipment.

He smiled. “Splendido, bellissima,” he said. “Go sit.”

“Does Dave know you’re running around with baklava?” she asked, as he made her an espresso and splashed amaretto into the dark liquid. He brought the cup across the room to her on the couch, along with some of the baklava. “This is really good,” she said, sipping. She picked up one of the baklava triangles. He grinned.

“Slide over,” he said, indicating that she should turn so he could rub her shoulders. “Actually,” he said, applying pressure to the knot between her shoulder blades, “Dave loves baklava. He’s been wanting to do an Italian-inspired baklava for years. Like pistachio? His parents thought it was bizarre.”

“Pistachio baklava sounds good,” Darcy said, breathing in deeply as he touched her. She’d forgotten how affectionate and touchy-feely he could be. It was comforting and erotic. “Mmmm,” she said.

“That good baklava?” he said teasingly.

“Yeah,” she said, unwilling to admit that she’d been moaning over his touch, not the pastry.

“You’re really tense,” he said. “Those sprinklers get something important?” Of course he knew, she realized. He was the security guy now.

“The wedding binder,” she said, sighing, “with all the paperwork. I had to redo it.” It was on the coffee table.

“Why not scan it?” he said.

“Oh, God,” she muttered.

“What?” he said.

“The scanner hates me,” she said. She loathed the scanner. Jane had a weird attachment to an old salvaged one that was always freezing on Darcy and seemed to take delight in malfunctioning on her. “I named it Christine, because it’s evil like the car in that Stephen King book.” He chuckled.

“I’ll scan everything for you,” he offered.

“Oh, thank you,” Darcy said. If he started scanning things for her, she’d be taking her panties off. Definitely losing her shoe again.

“Have another piece of baklava,” he said, getting up.

“Where are you going?” she said, mildly forlorn.

“Scanning this,” he said, picking up the binder. “It’ll help you relax. I’ll be back, fix you another classico.”

 

Darcy was on her third triangle of baklava when he returned. “How did you do that so fast?” she said. He’d already emailed her the electronic files.

“I’m talented,” he said cheerfully, heading over to the espresso machine. “Also, my scanner isn’t evil. You want another?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. He made it. “Thank you,” she said. He started massaging her again.

“You like the drink?” Brock said.

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “It’s so good.” She sighed. She meant his hands, of course. She leaned into him, relaxing.

“I think I want kids,” he said suddenly.

Darcy spit out her drink, coughing. “What?”

“Just one or two,” he said. “You think I’m too old? I’d be forty-four...”

“Uhhh, no?” Darcy said. It was bad form to tell anyone they were too old, right? She didn’t actually think he was, but who freaking knew he even wanted--

“How many do you want?” Brock asked abruptly.

“Wh-what?” Darcy said.

“I mean, if we started tomorrow, I’d be forty-four and you’d be thirty for the first one, if everything went okay. You’d want at least a year between kids, but I don’t want to be so old that people think my kid is my grandkid and I’m too tired to do things with ‘em.”

“What?” Darcy repeated.

“I’m trying to do the baby math, _fragolina.”_

“Baby math,” Darcy said, stunned. “Since when?”

“I met a kid in the desert. He was a nice kid. I feel like I’m missing out,” he said. “How do you feel?”

“That’s how you really feel?” she said, still stunned. “You want children?”

“Sono innamorato di te,” he whispered quietly, kneading her lower back gently.

 

He’d said ‘I’m in love with you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's donut earrings are super cute: https://www.jilliciouscharms.com/collections/earrings/products/boston-creme-donut-earrings
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter mood: Frank Sinatra's version of "A Fine Romance" for Brock; Marilyn Monroe's version for Darcy.
> 
> Sinatra's: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S2dLaXTdnMg
> 
> Monroe's: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qyz8nvXQjAY


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now he's back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments & kudos

“Jane! Help! Mayday!” Darcy said the next morning. Jane was working in the lab while Jack ran wedding errands.

“What’s wrong?” Jane said.

“Brock wants babies,” Darcy said. “He told me last night.” Also, she’d let him kiss her goodnight. It was all the baklava sugar going straight to her brain. He’d tasted like coffee and amaretto, though. Stupid hot.

“Oh. Well, that explains it,” Jane said thoughtfully. She was reassembling one of the dried-out machines carefully.

“Huh?” Darcy said. Intelligently. How had Jane known they’d been making out like idiots?

“Jack said he saw him carrying around Rhonda’s baby the other day, like, all day,” Jane said.

“Rhonda in R&D?” Darcy said.

“Uh-huh,” Jane said, scrunching her face in concentration.

“You don’t think he actually got Rhonda pregnant, do you?” Darcy asked. She really struggled with doing math in her head, but nine months ago would’ve been…

“No,” Jane said. “I’m pretty sure the baby’s dad is her husband. He works in the security office, remember? The baby looks just like him now. They’re both bald at the moment.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. “That’s a relief.” She’d worn her donut earrings. They were cute.

“It is crazy if I thought about wearing not-white for this ceremony?” Jane said abruptly. “White’s so antiquated.” Jane had been debating if she should just wear a suit or a little cocktail dress for the Little Wedding. Something fun. She could go traditional for the Big Wedding. Not that anybody would be upset if she didn’t. Jack had made it clear that his hippie-ish parents didn’t care about those things and Jane’s mother was too much a feminist to insist on white at either wedding.

“True that. You could wear whatever you want,” Darcy said. “I read something where someone had a dress made out of champagne-colored sari silks for their wedding. That’d be pretty? There’s lots of fabric stores we could go to on Thursday?” They were hitting a few dress shops already.

“We totally should. Did I tell you that Jack’s mom said they were just thrilled?” Jane said. Jack’s mother had called Jane and been so sweet and so impressed by her career that Jane had cried afterwards.

“I’m sure they are,” Darcy said. “How could they not be? You’re fantastica, amica,” Darcy said. “Plus, Jack’s family has to be nice. Look at how nice he is, you know?”

“Tell that to Odin,” Jane muttered.

“Jane, do not let that one-eyed Asgardian asshat give you a complex,” Darcy said firmly. “He is an idiot. Look at how he treated his wife and sons!”

“Like a big asshat,” Jane said. They looked at each other and both dissolved into laughter. 

“A goat at a banquet!” they singsonged in unison.

“Frigga, get out of the room, I have to emotionally scar our children now!” Darcy said in a deep voice.

“I think I shall grow a beard that makes me look like a hobo, it’s very kingly and will help me better pit our sons against each other, Frigga!” Jane said, also doing the Odin beard tug.

“I shall throw you in jail and then nap for several centuries, son!” Darcy bellowed.

“I’m a dinner-theater King Lear with serious emotional constipation!” Jane yelled back. “I sit on a throne of liesssssssss and naps.”

“I really hope Frigga banged Heimdall like a screen door in a hurricane behind Odin’s back,” Darcy said, once they’d stopped giggling.

“I still can’t believe you asked him if they were,” Jane said, laughing so hard she started to cry.

“Heimdall didn’t deny it!” Darcy said. “He just smiled at me in a mysterious-yet-pleased way. They were totally getting it on.” She did a little dance in her chair and chanted _“bow-chica-wow-wow.”_

“I so would with Heimdall,” Jane admitted. “Why is he not king of Asgard, anyway?”

“I think it's racism. Do they have racism? He’s, like, the most competent Asgardian, for realz. He caught that invisible plane during the elf deal like a badass,” Darcy said. “I saw the frescos they did of him, like, pole vaulting from the BiFrost onto the invisible plane at his favorite pub.”

“I bet he drinks a lot,” Jane said. “That’s the most stressful job on Asgard.”

“A lot,” Darcy agreed, nodding.

 

Around noon, Darcy’s phone rang. “You wanna have lunch with me again?” Brock asked. “It’s a nice day. We could have roof sandwiches? You still like that tomato basil one?” There was a sort of garbled chatter on the other end of the phone. It sounded like a baby.

“You haven’t kidnapped anyone’s babies today, have you? I don’t think they need to be in the sun that long,” Darcy told him.

“She has a little hat,” Brock said. “Don’t you, bambina?” he said in a sweet voice. The chatter turned into a laugh.

“I don’t think a hat’s enough when it’s this sunny,” Darcy said. “We can eat inside somewhere.”

“Okay,” he said. “C’mon up, the food’s being delivered.”

 

***

 

“Is that Rhonda’s baby?” Darcy asked, when she got to his office. He was toting around a little toddler with a pink hat on.

He scoffed. “This is Karen’s baby. Rhonda’s baby’s not as cute as you, is he sweetheart? He’s got those big ears,” Brock said. “Miss Violet is much prettier, aren’t you?” Little Violet grinned at him and laughed again. She looked at Darcy and reached her hands out, babbling, “le je-buh-buh.”

“Awwww,” Darcy said.

“Can you say Darcy?” Brock asked. “Darcy? That’s Darcy. Darcy.”

“Dah-dah-dah-dah-see,” the baby said, mimicking him. “Ahhhhh. Gee-buh-buh. Ahhhhhh.” She waved her arms.

“I have no idea what that last part was,” Brock said seriously. “Do you?”

“Those are the sounds I hear whenever Jane gives a science presentation,” Darcy told him. When he laughed, little Violet laughed, too.

“So, I’m guessing the reason parenting is so difficult is because they only get about one-fifth of the baby food in their mouths, huh?” Brock asked her. He was feeding Violet while Darcy ate her sandwich.

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said. Her sandwich was very good, but little Vi seemed less than pleased with her peas. “How’d you get a high chair?” she asked.

“There’s an employee daycare,” he said. “One of Pepper’s new family-friendly policies.” He winked at her.

“What?” she said.

“You want me to reserve us a spot?” he asked.

“We aren’t even married,” she said.

“That a prerequisite or something?” he asked.

“For me, yeah. I’m not having a baby with someone who isn’t committed to me,” Darcy said. She bit into a potato chip.

“You want to go down to the county courthouse this week, get a license?” he asked.

“Are you serious?” she said, almost coughing out her potato chip in shock.

“Uh-huh,” he said, spoon feeding Violet a little more. “Atta girl,” he said, grinning. “Look at how good she is,” he said brightly.

“You realize marriage licenses are only good for a few days, right?” Darcy said. “They’re not year long or indefinite or something.”

“Yeah, so? You can plan a fast wedding, _fragolina_ , I’ve seen the binder. What about Thursday?” he asked.

“Brock?” Darcy said. “Have you seen your mother recently?”

“Went up to Connecticut the other weekend, why?” he asked.

“She give you anything? Pills, injections?” Darcy joked. “You feel funny since then?”

“Are you suggesting Ma gave me baby fever?” he said.

“Can you prove that she didn’t?” Darcy said. He laughed.

“The way I see it, if we start now, the baby will be old enough to go with us to Australia for the second wedding,” he said. “You wouldn’t want to travel pregnant, not all the way to Sydney. So, courthouse?”

“Who are you?” Darcy said.

“Dah-dah-bub-bub-gee,” little Violet said. Then she spit up a little squished peas onto his shirt.

“Huh,” he said, looking down. “I wonder how you get that green out of a white shirt?”

“I’m not sure,” Darcy said. “And I have to go with Jane to look at wedding dress stuff on Thursday afternoon. We’re doing a few dress shops and fabric stores. I can’t get a license for my own short-notice wedding, I’m planning her short-notice wedding.”

“She has dibs, huh?” he said.

“She called shotgun wedding first,” Darcy said. Brock laughed.

“That’s good, I like that. Can I go look at dresses with you?” he asked.

“You want to?” Darcy said.

“Sure,” he said, casually, dabbing at Violet’s face with a wet wipe.

“I guess there’s no rule about the best man seeing the bride,” Darcy said.

“Good,” he said.

 

***

 

He showed up at her apartment again that night. This time, he brought wine and some of Dave’s caramel éclairs. “Ooooh, God, not Dave’s caramel éclairs,” Darcy said. “I do not have enough willpower to resist all this,” she said, gesturing at him.

“All this?” he said.

“Wine, you, and Dave’s pastries, okay?” Darcy said.

“So don’t,” he said, grinning. “I’m actually here to bribe you into setting a wedding date,” he said cheerfully. He set the box down and poured them glasses of wine.

“You are not supposed to want to get married,” Darcy told him. “Or be toting around adorable babies all the time. You are supposed to be a workaholic who doesn’t call women back. Fallon told me,” Darcy said.

“Hmmm,” he said, “you want to snuggle? I miss snuggling you.”

She had two éclairs, a glass of wine, and a lot of snuggles. He proposed at least twice as they cuddled on her couch. “Say yes,” he teased. “I brought éclairs. That has to be worth at least one marriage, right? We can always get divorced if you decide you aren’t a dessert person anymore.”

“Like I’ll ever not be a dessert person,” Darcy said.

“Exactly,” he said, squeezing her affectionately.

 

***

 

“Oh, Jane,” Darcy said, sitting up straighter when Jane emerged from the dressing room on Thursday. “That’s it, it’s the dress. It’s beautiful.” They were at a dress shop that Pepper had recommended. It was very luxurious.

“It’s a good dress,” Brock said. He was sitting next to Darcy, drinking some of the free champagne from a dubious-looking store clerk. They were not used to Brock-type guys in the wedding dress store, apparently. He rubbed Darcy’s thigh absently.

“It’s not too fancy?” Jane said. “I was thinking a shorter one.” This was an empire-waisted Greek-style gown with a floating piece of fabric suspended from embroidery on the shoulders. “I’m a little worried this is too Asgardian?” Jane said, when she saw herself in the mirror, frowning.

“Oh,” Darcy said, disappointed. It kinda was. “I get it,” Darcy said. “Try the next one.”

“What are you wearing?” Brock asked Darcy suddenly.

“Oh, I dunno. Jane isn’t picky, so I was waiting to see the ceremony flowers Jack picks. I’ll match those, unless he picks white ones,” Darcy said.

“You have to match?” he asked.

“It’s more polite if you coordinate,” Darcy said, giggling.

“You don’t want to clash,” the clerk said.

“Why don’t you look at wedding dresses for yourself?” he said to Darcy.

“Noooooooo,” Darcy said. “This is Jane’s day. Rude!”

“You’re getting married?” the clerk said.

“Yes,” Brock said.

“I haven’t technically even gotten a ring yet,” Darcy said. She hadn’t actually accepted anything, either. He kept coming by her apartment at night and trying to talk her into getting a marriage license or ‘practicing’ getting pregnant.

“You will,” Brock said, smiling. He kissed her. “I’ve picked out a nice polymer clay one,” he said.

“Good,” she said, laughing. That meant he wasn’t taking this too seriously. The sales clerk looked very confused.

“I’m going to look for you,” Brock said suddenly, handing her his champagne glass.

“You can’t do that,” Darcy said, “it’s bad luck!”

“Only if I see you in it, not if I find some things that I think you’ll like,” he said.

“He’s a little weird,” Darcy whispered apologetically to the clerk. “Sorry.”

“I see,” the clerk said, as Brock thumbed ruthlessly through some dresses.

 

The clerk brightened when she realized Brock was looking at some really expensive dresses and Darcy could see her deciding he wasn’t so weird after all. “What about this one?” Brock said. He held up a dress.

“Are you crazy? That looks like lingerie with a poof at the bottom,” Darcy said. “The bodice is 50% sheer! My boobs would make a run for the border during the ceremony.” He grinned.

“Don’t they deserve a last party?” he said. “What do you think?” he asked the clerk.

“It’s a very...sensual dress?” the clerk offered politely.

“See? That’s you, _fragolina_ ,” he said. “She’s very sexy,” he told the clerk seriously. “She has an amazing figure, but she hides it under layers.”

“Oh em gee,” Darcy said, when he brought her several more, “these are all too...naked. Did you go to the Tony Stark School of Ladies Fashion?”

“I think you could pull these off,” he said.

“I think he’s right,” Jane said, sticking her head out of a dressing room stall. “You have a great figure. Stop hiding it so much.”

“Traitor!” Darcy said.

“Try this one on,” Brock said, handing her the one with all the sexy lace. “I won’t look.”

“That’s incredibly rude to Jane,” Darcy told him.

“Do it, Darce!” Jane called. “I totally don’t mind.”

“She doesn’t,” the store clerk said.

“All right, fine,” Darcy said. Brock grinned. She carried the dress--with it’s fluffy mermaid skirt--into a dressing room. She was putting it on when she saw the price tag. “Oh my God! It’s six thousand dollars!” Darcy yelled. “Help me out of this thing!” she said, starting to hyperventilate.

“Let Jane see it first,” Brock called.

“I want to see it,” Jane said.

“You look away,” Darcy told him, sticking her head out of the dressing room. He turned politely.

Darcy stepped out. “Wow,” Jane said. “That’s incredible. You look amazing.”

“You really do,” the store clerk said.

“Buy it,” Brock said, his back still to her. He handed a card to the clerk.

“No, no, no,” Darcy said. “This is entirely too fancy for the kind of wedding I want us to have, anyway.” He turned and grinned.

“So, you’re saying yes, huh?” he said. “Jane, you witnessed that acceptance, right?”

“Yes,” Jane said.

“Christ, you look good in that. So good,” he said smolderingly.

“You weren’t supposed to look. See, can’t get it now,” Darcy said, eager to shed the world’s most expensive dress. She looked promptly at the clerk, who gave Brock back his card with a sad expression. “Jane, I love what you’re wearing,” Darcy said. Jane was wearing a simple, elegant sheath.

“It’s pretty, but...not right,” Jane said. “So serious. I want a fun dress.”

 

“What about yellow?” Darcy said, once she was out of the sexy dress. “Do you have anything yellow?” she asked the clerk.

“Yellow?” the clerk said.

“Her ring is yellow,” Darcy said.

“That’s a great idea!” Jane said. “Yellow is fun.” The clerk went to check.

“What do you think?” Darcy asked Brock. He didn’t answer. “Hellloooo, Earth to Brock! Midgard to Brock!” Darcy waved her hand in front of his face.

“Huh?” he said.

“Where were you?” she asked.

“I was thinking about you in that dress,” he said, grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dress Brock thinks Darcy should buy: http://www.eveofmiladybridals.com/stylescollections/1557.html  
> 
> 
> Chapter mood song is Pink Martini's Now I'm Back: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ovXfwzeZpfo


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Little Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos.

The next few weeks were full of wedding prep. It turned out that even a Little Wedding involved big work. “I’m exhausted. I would never do this for anyone but Jane and I’m seriously considering hiring her a real planner for the Big Wedding as my gift,” Darcy told Brock. They were having a regular lunch, this time with Jamie’s--assistant director of Facilities Maintenance--baby.

“Oh, yeah?” Brock said, looking up. Little Ella attempted to strangle him with his tie. “Hey, now,” he said cheerfully, detaching her chubby fingers.

“I’m never having a wedding,” Darcy said. “I got hives yesterday over the logistics of getting the wine here. Actual hives!” Brock frowned.

“Is it that bad?” he said. “Can I help with anything?”

“Yes,” she said. “Bring me some of those cream puffs Dave makes. I’m too tired for more salad.”

 

They were curled up on the couch that night when Brock made an announcement. “I’m moving in tomorrow,” he said cheerfully. “Dave says I get on his nerves and I’m your problem now.”

“You’re moving in?” Darcy said, laughing. “It’s about time. You spend every night here anyway.”

“With varying degrees of success,” he said, shifting against her. “Why do I have to ply you with wine and amaretto to get your panties off? We used to have sex every night.”

“One, I'm tired. Two, we start having sex every night, we will end up married,” Darcy said. She’d been trying to hold him off some, so she didn’t fall hopelessly in love with him again. She was about 85% in love with him again now. It was some combination of him bringing her dessert and watching him play with babies.

“Good,” he said. “I want to be married to you, Darcy Elizabeth Lewis.” He threw his leg over her hip playfully. “I’m not letting you get away again, _fragolina._ And I can help you with any of this stuff,” he said, gesturing towards the wedding binder. Well, binders, plural. Things were mushrooming out of control. Somehow, the Little Wedding now had 300 guests and several ice sculptures.

“I’m stuck with you, huh?” she said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Even if you don’t want a wedding, I’m living with you in sin.”

“You’d think you’d be happy about it,” Darcy said, catching his glum tone. “Most men are delighted when women say they don’t want to get married or have a big wedding.”

“Bullshit,” he said. “That’s what you say to women you don’t really care about. Everybody wants someone to commit to them.”

Darcy laughed. “Okay, then.”

“What?” he said.

“You’ve changed,” she said. “You used to be the kind of guy who crossed the street to avoid _Brides_ magazine at the newsstand.”

“I’m a different guy now. I keep trying to get you to see,” he mumbled.

“Tell me again when I’ve had a nap,” she said.

 

***

 

She was tired. “Weddings are exhausting,” she told Brock, when they woke up together the next morning.  “I’m so glad I don’t have to do this again until the Big Wedding,” she said.

“This is why I think we should elope,” he said. “If you don’t want Tony to go all out and me to buy you that great dress.”

“That isn’t a bad idea,” she said, “despite the fact that you still haven’t actually proposed with a ring or anything.”

“You sure you don’t want that dress?” he asked idly, stroking her belly. “That was a good dress.”

“You’re obsessed,” she told him. “It doesn’t look that good.”

“Oh, yes it did,” he said, sliding her close. “I’d have a wedding just to peel you out of that. What time is it?” He chuckled.

“Eight-thirty,” she said. “What is it about that dress?”

“I’m proud and vain,” he said. “I want you to have that dress so I can I show other people pictures of you in it and watch their jaws drop, ‘cause the old man’s wife is really gorgeous.”

“You’re not old,” she said loyally.

“I can’t wait to brag to somebody that I have a hot younger wife who makes more money than me,” he said.

“I do?” Darcy said. “You’re head of security!”

“Tony thinks you making him the good coffee is more crucial,” Brock said without malice.  

“That is ridiculous,” Darcy said.

“Take it up with him, I’ve got no objections,” he said, nuzzling her hair. “God, I’m so fucking happy.”

 

They moved in his sparse belongings and Brock took her to Café Lalo for Nutella waffles again to celebrate. Marc was still waiting tables there. Darcy waved at him. “Hi!” she said cheerfully.

“I remember you two,” he said. “It’s been awhile.”

“Too long,” Brock said warmly.

“Should I get some boring vegetable thing for my cholesterol?” Darcy asked him, before they ordered.

“Nah,” he said. “We’ll start that next week. You should get something fun today.” He ordered them more champagne. They talked about work stuff for awhile and moving furniture in the apartment. It was all very domestic, Darcy thought, in the nicest possible way. She didn’t have to yell at anyone about engraved invitations, for a start.

“Ugh,” Darcy said suddenly.

“What? Something wrong with your waffles?” he asked.

“No, I forgot I’m supposed to get a final guest list to Pepper by five today!” Darcy said. “I hate weddings,” she muttered.

 

***

 

The day of the Little Wedding ceremony, the weather was perfect, thank God. They were having the wedding at the upstate Avengers facility. Darcy got ready, then helped Jane get dressed. Brock was in charge of the groom, but Jack was the most  low-maintenance part of anything, so Darcy envied Brock. Before he left that morning, he’d put her key necklace on the dresser with a note: _Wear it for me, fragolina?_

 

She wore it for the first time. It matched her purple bridesmaids dress, in any case. Jane had been insistent on galaxy purple. Darcy went to check on all the guests arriving. Pepper had happily agreed to be the wedding greeter. It was the perfect job for her. “Everything going okay?” Darcy asked Pepper.

“It’s flawless, you planned it perfectly,” Pepper said. “I’m going to steal you from Tony, make you my assistant,” she said.

“Hands off my Itty Bitty, Pep!” Tony called. He was greeting some awestruck-looking scientists from NYU-Syracuse.

“Oh, Darcy,” Pepper said suddenly, “I thought Brock was your date?”

“What?” Darcy said. He was her date, wasn’t he?

“He RSVP’d for a plus-one, but I haven’t met her yet,” Pepper said. She had been welcoming the guests with Tony.

“I have no idea,” Darcy said, fuming inwardly. He’d brought a date after he’d spent the last few weeks trying to convince her to elope with him and have a baby? They were living together! The louse. She was going to give him a piece of her mind--

 

This train of thought was interrupted by a catering emergency and she had to dash to the upstate compound’s kitchens. They were on the other side of the building. Darcy was almost late to the Little Wedding, running around and finalizing everything, after she helped find a lost waiter and Jane's missing shoes. She popped back in the room where Jane was, hugged Jane’s parents, and gave them all the thumbs up sign. “Ready to get this show on the road?” she asked Jane.

“Start the music!” Jane said, laughing tearfully. She squeezed her dad’s hand. It made Darcy get all teary, like she was some kind of softie all of a sudden.

 

Brock was waiting for Darcy in the hallway outside the room where they were having the ceremony.

“You look gorgeous,” he told her, taking her arm. “Just gorgeous.”

“What would your plus-one say?” Darcy said, as they walked up the aisle. “Which one is she, anyway?” Darcy was fake-grinning and trying not to let it turn into a grimace. There were only a few people that she didn’t recognize.

“My plus-one?” he said, then chuckled. “Oh, yeah. I’ve been meaning to introduce you. You’ll love my plus-one, get along great.”

“You are such an asshole,” Darcy said. “I am so mad at you right now.”

“Why?” he said.

“We had sex yesterday, you live with me now, and I find out you RSVP’d for a second person from Pepper this morning?” Darcy said sharply.

“It’s not a date, I swear,” Brock said.

“You’ve never slept with your plus-one?” she whispered. “You expect me to believe--”

“Well,” he admitted, “technically, I have done a little bit of snuggling, but it was really more for companionship. I was lonely.” They both smiled at his mother and sister. Darcy had put them on the bride’s side. She was totally stealing the good Rumlows, dagnabbit.

“God, how are you related to such nice people?” Darcy said.

“Black sheep,” he whispered. At the end of their walk up the aisle, he kissed her cheek. “Ti amo,” he said gently. Darcy glared at him and he winked at her.

 

“You’ll be all right,” Brock said to a nervous Jack, as the bridal entrance music started up.

“I’m shaking like a leaf,” Jack said. Across the aisle on the bride’s side, Darcy smiled in what she hoped was a comforting way at Jack. “Something’s gonna go wrong, I can feel it,” Jack said.

“Nothing to worry about,” Darcy told him. “This is just the Little Wedding, remember? Basically, it’s practice.”

“Shh,” Tony hissed, “I’m officiating. This is serious.”

“Tony, I got you ordained through the Church of Elvis online, calm down,” Darcy said. Behind her, Natasha snickered. Tony started to say something, but was interrupted by Jane’s appearance in the doorway.

 

Jane looked beautiful walking down the aisle. As maid of honor, Darcy had found her a dark purple and blue sash printed with stars to go with her buttercream yellow dress. They’d been jokingly calling it the “something galaxy.”  She had both her parents walk with her; it was an Australian thing, apparently, and Jane had decided if her dad was walking, her mom would, too. For Jack, they were having Lamington cakes at the outdoor reception on the lawn--Australian sponge cake squares covered in chocolate and coconut--and “Waltzing Matilda” as the first dance song. When Jane reached Jack, he was positively beaming. It changed his whole face, Darcy thought.

 

Darcy looked over and realized Brock was winking at her again. He’d been doing that all through the ceremony, she realized. A lot of naughty staring, too. How could he do that in front of his date? Darcy looked on Jack’s side of the aisle, looking for an angry woman, but saw only happy faces. He mouthed a kiss at her and she frowned at him. When Tony got to the part of the ceremony about anyone having cause to stop the proceedings, there was a sudden roll of thunder and a distant lightning. “Uh-oh,” Darcy said out loud.

“What?” Brock mouthed at her.

“I’m going to kill him,” Jane fumed.

“What’d I do?” Tony said, assuming it was him.

“Nothing, Tony,” Darcy said. “Listen.” The thunder rolled again.

“Uh-oh,” Tony said. “Point Break.”

Jack sighed. “I knew I couldn’t compete forever,” he said softly.

“Bullshit,” Jane said fiercely. “I love _you_.”

Brock frowned. “What?” he said again.

“Thor,” Darcy mouthed.

“Oh,” Brock said. “Wait, what?” There was a thud of footsteps and a party of Asgardians--led by Thor--burst into the room.

 

 

“My Jane!” he boomed. “Jack of the Rollinses!” Then he marched up the aisle and grabbed Jane and Jack in a hearty embrace. “I am here to wish you joy!” he said, beaming. “My most heartfelt and earnest congratulations on the occasion of your marriage!” The Asgardians whooped and cheered. The guests looked mildly alarmed.

“Look, Point Break, I’m officiating here,” Tony complained.

“Oh, I am sorry,” Thor said, looking chagrined. Jane shook her head.

“You always did have the worst timing,” she said. Now that he wasn’t making a scene, she gave him a more affectionate, fond look. Thor looked embarrassed.

“I do apologize, Jane,” he said.

“It’s--it’s all right, mate,” Jack said, looking deeply relieved. “Stay for the rest of the ceremony and the reception?” Jack offered. Thor clapped him on the shoulder.

“A most hospitable and happy groom!” the Asgardian boomed.

Brock started to laugh. Darcy led Thor and the other Asgardians to the bride’s side of the aisle. She thought she saw Thor do finger-guns at some of the more admiring guests.

 

 

The reception was wild. Tony kept Angela all to himself. They’d actually coordinated her dress with his Iron Man-themed tie. A very pregnant Fallon had apparently charmed Fandral, of all people, so that he kept bringing her cake and telling her stories of his valiant antics. “What’s that about?” Darcy asked the other Asgardians.

“He can be genuinely heroic on occasion,” Sif said. “He is very kind to grandmothers, pregnant women, and small children, despite his utter foppishness at all other times.” Then she actually smiled. Darcy looked over at Fandral, who winked. When she wandered over to them, Fandral grinned at her.

“Have I charmed Sif yet?” he asked.

“Is this all a ruse?” Darcy said. “To get into Sif’s pants?”

“Sure,” Fallon said cheerfully. “I’m helping.”

“I’d like it to be Sif,” Fandral said, grinning, “but if you yourself are--”

“Hey,” Fallon said, “that’s my future sister in law! Hands off, Pretty Boy.”

Darcy was dancing with Bruce Banner when Brock cut in. “What about your date?” she asked, peering around.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, “forgot about that. Come meet my plus-one,” he said, dragging her off the outdoor dance floor gently. He led her to table under a tree on the grounds. “I believe you two have met before?” Brock said.

Sitting in a chair was her Stuart the Minion pillow. “You RSVP’d for Stuey?” Darcy said, laughing. “I can’t believe I fell for that!”

“Well, once I knew it was Tony’s dime, I didn’t figure he’d mind,” Brock said, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Stuey and I missed you.”

“But you picked the chicken,” Darcy said.

“Why not?” Brock said, kissing her neck.

“He’s a vegetarian,” Darcy said.

“You can have his chicken, I’m taking you off the diet, _fragolina_ ,” he said. “It’s making you grumpy. You want a slice of that cake?”

“Yes,” Darcy said. “But I do need to work on my cholesterol sometime.”

“Sure,” he said. “I can help with that.”

“Will you?” she said.

“Of course. I’ll be back,” he said. He came back with champagne for her and a slice of cake. He smiled. “Here you go,” he said. “You want to split it with me?”

“Yeah,” Darcy said, but she noticed he let her eat most of it. Also, he wasn’t drinking.

“Oh, there’s something else,” he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a box. “Your ring is here.”

“That’s how you officially propose?” Darcy said.

“Look at the ring first,” he said, grinning.

“It better be a cheese fries ring, to make up for that non-proposal,” she said, opening the box. She gasped. “This is not a polymer clay ring,” she said.

“Nope,” he said. “Real proposal, real ring, _fragolina,_ “ he said. “Jane helped me pick it out while you were handling her veil alterations.”

“You sneaks!” Darcy said. “This is so pretty.” The diamond sparkled in the box.

“That’s a yes?” he said.

“Yup,” Darcy said. “Yes and yes. But let’s elope somewhere. I never want to hear caterer’s estimates again.”

“I might have an idea about that,” he said, slipping the ring on her finger. “You ever been to Niagara Falls?”

“I’ve definitely seen it in old movies,” Darcy said. “Although there is that one where Marilyn Monroe murders her husband on their romantic vacation there. Or tries to.”

“I’ll risk it,” he said. “I think I have less chance of you murdering me if we elope to Niagara than if I ask you to plan another wedding anytime soon. You’ve got a week off while Jane and Jack go on the Little Honeymoon and I’ve got some paid time off, too.”

“What are you saying?” Darcy said.

"I've got bags packed in the car and booked a chapel. If we leave tonight, we’re already dressed, it’s only a few hours drive, _and_ somebody else will have to do clean up for all this,” he said gesturing at the wedding reception going on around them. Darcy got a gleam in her eye. “You like the idea, don’t you?” he said, grinning.

 “You grab Stuart and I’ll meet you at the car, I’m going to go say goodbye to Jane!” she said. “Stuart can be the witness! Unless you want your mother to come?”

“Give me the ring back,” he said. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“Nope!” she said. “It’s mine now. My precioussssss.”

 

***

“What’s that next to sister cousin?” Bucky asked Steve, when they saw the streaming video of the Niagara ceremony later. With the exception of Fallon, the reception had been well, sloshed, so it took everyone awhile to notice Brock and Darcy had fled the scene. Jack and Jane had already departed for a beach somewhere, sworn to secrecy.

“It’s her Minion, Buck,” Steve said cheerfully. “His name’s Stuart.”

“I can’t believe Stuart got to go, but we didn’t get to go,” Tony pouted. “I wanted to officiate again.”

“What did Miss Angela say?” Bucky asked.

“She said she was just happy that he’d finally gotten Darcy to commit, but she was lying. I know my future wife,” Tony said. Bucky chuckled.

“Well, you know,” Steve said slyly, “Darcybelle and Jane love those old movies. Don’t they have double weddings all the time? Maybe that Australian one could be a double….”

“That,” Tony said, “is an excellent idea. I’m calling Pep and Ang to start the ball rolling right now....” He stood up. As he walked away, Bucky leaned over to Steve.

"You lost your mind?” Bucky said incredulously to Steve. "You're a dead man."

"Huh," Steve said innocently. "Why's that?"

“She swore up and down she was going to hire Jane a real planner for the other ceremony and now you’re putting her in it? Punk, you must be feeling real lucky, because Darcybelle is gonna murder you when she finds out you put that bug in his ear,” Bucky said in a low voice, as if he was afraid he'd be overheard by the twinkle lights and orchids.

“It’s very hot when you do that Clint Eastwood thing,” Steve said casually. “Say it again, Buck.”

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Darcy's engagement ring, choose your own adventure.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm giving Callan Mulvey back his Aussie/Kiwi accent for this one, because I believe in Non-American Accent Restoration in the MCU.


End file.
